Beach Boys ’68: A Review of Two New Sets

I thought it was going to happen. I thought it was actually bound to happen…

A Beach Boys archival set spanning the entirety of 1968.

Why wouldn’t there be? The Beach Boys enterprise has been releasing comprehensive, almost exhaustive sets detailing the makings of some of their classic albums in the recent years. About two decades or so after the release of The Pet Sounds Sessions, the demand is there for more archival sets. Perhaps it was the success of The SMiLE Sessions and the ever-so-passionate fanbase that prompted The Beach Boys enterprise to put out more archival sets.

In 2017, following the release of the multi-disc Beach Boys’ Party! Uncovered and Unplugged set, some live albums, and Becoming the Beach Boys, the group put out 1967 – Sunshine Tomorrow. This was a set that I had been wishing for for years. Sunshine Tomorrow chronicles the making of two albums that were released in 1967 (obviously), which also included a planned live album from that year that got sent to the cutting room floor. The two studio albums in question were Smiley Smile and Wild Honey, two stripped down, minimalist LPs that not only were ahead of their time, but also laid the groundwork for the band’s best work in the post-Pet Sounds years. To top it off, an all-new stereo mix of Wild Honey was the centerpiece of the 2-disc, 65-track set. It was a Wild Honey fan’s dream come true.

Even better, two other 1967 sets were released months afterward, but were digital-only compilations: 1967 – Sunshine Tomorrow 2: The Studio Sessions and the gargantuan 1967: Live Sunshine. All this for the Smiley Smile/Wild Honey period… I couldn’t have been any more satisfied.

So I wondered, rather impatiently, are they going to do an archival set for Friends? 20/20? These two albums were recorded in 1968, but the latter wouldn’t be released until February of the following year. Still, it’s all music from 1968, and since this year is the 50th anniversary of that period, I and other fans thought… Yeah, they should do a set for Friends and 20/20. Would they? Did enough people purchase all the 1967 sets?

Lo and behold, The Beach Boys fulfilled our wishes in the form of two separate sets sharing the same titling and album cover aesthetics as the 1967 sets…

Yet more dreams come true! Is this Walt Disney World?

Now, if you know me very well, I already love the whole artistic period of The Beach Boys to the moon and back. Everything from 1965’s The Beach Boys Today! to the 1973 release Holland? Some of the best music ever made, no question. These sets remind me that I can find new ways to love these recordings. Just as the 1967 sets did, both of these 1968 sets made me appreciate Friends and 20/20 in ways I never did before, the former especially.

Friends is the final album in what’s often called the “lo-fi trilogy” of the Beach Boys, albums that eschewed the lofty ambitions and stunning production of Pet Sounds and the ill-fated SMiLE project. Smiley Smile took scraps of what could’ve been a world-shattering album, and drenched it all in a humble, delightfully weird back-to-basics attitude. Gone were the Wall of Sound-topping arrangements and staggering layers, Smiley Smile was even more stripped than the recordings that were made for the Party! album. Too weird for old-time fans and casual listeners, not hip enough for an audience that was too ignorant to recognize the boys’ actual craftwork, Smiley Smile was “the new Beach Boys” whether Americans liked it or not. European music buyers were far more charitable, and this would be the norm for The Beach Boys for a long while. Wild Honey was also very simple in its presentation, a very straightforward pop record with flourishes of R&B, rock, and even some hints of psychedelia infused with the band’s own unorthodox world. It too was a sales flop in the states, but was a huge hit in the UK. Friends ended this trilogy with horrific stateside sales. As usual, it did better abroad and even got mostly positive critical reception back in the day.

Friends is an island. 1968 was a year of turmoil, assassinations, revolution, the ongoing Vietnam War, a tumultuous presidential election, sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll. The Beach Boys by this point were perceived to be too square to be around, so uncool and not worthy of consideration. The SMiLE cancellation, an underwhelming ‘Heroes and Villains’ single, no-showing at the legendary Monterrey Pop festival, Rolling Stone magazine articles often writing off Brian Wilson’s “supposed” genius, and Smiley Smile all played a part in killing whatever credibility this band had, and instead of trying to be cool or live up to any hype, the band – with a slowly withering Brian Wilson little by little giving up control of the helm – just went their own way. Friends, to me, has always felt like an album recorded in an alternate timeline where the 1960s played out very, very differently. No war, no assassinations, not as many issues going on. Almost utopian, in a sense. Homey much like Smiley Smile and Wild Honey, it is as secluded as ever in the sea of 1968, its extremely mellow and lazy vibe was incongruous with the heavy psychedelic sounds of Jimi Hendrix and The Doors, and it didn’t even get to share a spot with the poppier likes of The Grass Roots and 1910 Fruitgum Company. No one even gave it a fair shake.

Each track ran about a scant two-or-so minutes, with nary a dull second (save for the noisy, tuneless, and misguided ‘Transcendental Meditation’ that ends the LP) and having such a welcoming aura. Like, come hang out in this quiet house out on this island! No surfing or hot rods, no moody reflections on growing up and life, it’s as if The Beach Boys briefly found peace – musically – with their adult lives. Family, friends, mundanity, it’s all celebrated. This album is so anti-1968, there’s a lovely song on here about the joys of giving birth. What self-respecting rocker in the year 1968 would ever think of writing such a song, let alone recording it? Brian, his brothers, and pals worked in very strange ways…

Friends must’ve sounded better and better as time went on. I wasn’t born in the 1960s, so I wouldn’t know. I’d imagine someone hearing this in 1968, and then putting it on in 1998, and feeling it fit in more with those times than before. I’d argue it and the other late 60s/early 70s Beach Boys albums are timeless efforts that fit in nicely with the modern day. In fact, some of it aligned with what was coming out of the indie scene circa 2010/2011, before that arguably got phased out. The session material presented on Wake The World: The Friends Sessions enhanced my appreciation of this album. From alternate versions of songs to backing tracks/vocal-only demonstrations to some fun outtakes, Friends just gets better with each listen. Like the 1967 series before it, Wake The World continues to close out any myths and misinformation that is often spread about the Beach Boys in their post-Pet Sounds run.

Even though Beach Boys albums didn’t list Brian Wilson as sole producer after Pet Sounds‘ release, Brian is still very much involved in the albums that were released between then and June 1968. Friends has a lot of his prints all over it, he even considers ‘Friends’ to be one of the best songs the band ever did, and possibly the album itself. This set, and the following one, also prove that the other Beach Boys weren’t just a bunch of putzes sitting around. Dennis and Carl Wilson had to take charge when Brian’s mental health was slipping, and we already heard Carl step it up with Wild Honey. On Friends, it is Dennis who pulls a lot of weight, writing his own songs (the strangely complex ‘Little Bird’, the concise and lovely ‘Be Still’) and doing the vocals on them as well. With Carl’s abundant vocals on Wild Honey and then this, we’re one step closer to a truly democratic Beach Boys album.

Many alternate mixes of Friends‘ songs only shows how much consideration went into each short piece. Friends is a roughly 25-minute album, which in 1968 was beyond square. Most pop albums of the early 1960s probably exceeded that length, but here The Beach Boys forsake conventions and make song thats go by so fast, you kind of wish they kept going… But at the same time, they’re just so short and sweet, making for a collection of quick, beautiful musical moments. They were not just tossed off, there was serious commitment there, and this one set of thirty-two tracks just proves it in spades. ‘Friends’ without the vocals is breathtaking, and the mood on it is just so right. ‘Be Here in the Mornin”s backing track shows so many layers, you can’t call this album underproduced – the production’s there! It’s just not what we’re used to from The Beach Boys, or anything released during the era. Brian and crew mastered a form of rich production that didn’t scream itself out of the speakers.

Upon listening to all of this work, I particularly fell in love with the instrumental ‘Passing By’ this time around, which I always really dug. The alternate version is nice and unexpected in ways, but what also struck me was Brian Wilson’s attempt at adding lyrics (which had been proposed for the piece, but wisely scrapped before recording commenced) to it in 1971, some three years later. He just sings them to what sounds like a spinning Friends LP in the background, probably in his home studio, or bedroom even. An early mix of ‘Busy Doin’ Nothin” with different lyrics, titled ‘Even Steven’ at that point, was also a pleasant surprise. I had no idea that the warm bossa nova-flavored at-home-with-Brian charmer was supposed to be a faster number. An early take of ‘Transcendental Meditation’ suggests the potential that clunker had, but beyond the preliminary sketches of the Friends songs, there are various tunes here that didn’t make it to the album, many of which didn’t make it past the instrumental phase (such as the country-ish, almost Santo & Johnny-esque paradise of ‘Away’, and the expectedly cool-sounding ‘You’re as Cool as Can Be’). Some of the material even has some of that Wild Honey flavor, what with that barroom piano that grounds them. There are little inklings of possible songs here as well, ones that really could’ve flowered into possible classics, such as covers like ‘My Little Red Book’ (long confused as a Wild Honey outtake, quite frankly it kind of sounds like one!) and ‘Rock and Roll Woman’… It makes one wonder, what would Friends had been like if it had more songs on it? I think it’s fine the way it is. Its shortness is part of its appeal…

Friends seemed to be recorded in a timely manner and without much fuss, as the bulk of it was laid down between February and April of 1968. What followed were a series of sessions that produced one single (‘Do It Again’, a call back to their surf hits) and various little pieces of things, a few sessions that ultimately culminated in Brian Wilson having another mental collapse, he was subsequently admitted to a mental hospital. Afterwards, it was up to brothers Dennis and Carl Wilson to pick up the pieces, with help from Mike Love, Al Jardine, and Bruce Johnston. Dennis had previously made songwriting strides on Friends with ‘Little Bird’ and ‘Be Still’, while Carl played leader and finished up Wild Honey after Brian wasn’t able to.

Very little of new Brian material was at their disposal, so for the next album, the band ended up resuscitating material from the archives when half of their submissions either didn’t get finished or weren’t deemed worthy enough for release. This is where 20/20 comes into play, which is more of a cobbled-together LP than a cohesive album. Half of the album is new material, only one of the brand-new recordings is a Brian piece. Dennis continued to show his might with selections like ‘Be With Me’ and ‘Never Learn Not to Love’, the latter of which he co-penned with – frighteningly of all people – Charles Manson. (That whole saga is another story in itself, for anyone who may not be in the know about The Beach Boys’ lengthy history.) Carl follows in his eldest brother’s footsteps with a striking production of ‘I Can Hear Music’. Al Jardine and Mike Love offer some odds and ends, while Bruce Johnston offers a Pet Sounds-lite instrumental. The rest is two SMiLE pieces, one of which is noticeably modified, a Wild Honey-era outtake, the previously-released ‘Do It Again’ single, and a completed cover of ‘Bluebirds over the Mountain’.

20/20 wasn’t as disastrous in sales as Friends was. Perhaps it was boosted by the inclusion of ‘Do It Again’, which was a respectably successful single. Still, the LP stalled at only #68 in the US while setting the charts ablaze overseas, particularly in the UK and the Netherlands. Ironic how America’s Band was getting a lot of respect from the Europeans during this time, while us Americans didn’t want to know nothing… Perhaps a big mistake we as a people made back then.

The platter often gets a bad rap from fans because it’s a collection of previously-unreleased recordings. I imagine a lot of fans who followed the band carefully at the time were happy to finally hear material from the mythical SMiLE, but nowadays it’s treated as some sort of toss-off contractual obligation. (Its title is partially a reference to the fact that it’s the 20th Beach Boys LP release for Capitol Records.) Without the historical context or anything else, it’s just another solid, at times beautiful and haunting post-Pet Sounds Beach Boys album. Almost a smorgasbord if you will: Throwback surfing with ‘Do It Again’, Spector-chasing beauty with ‘I Can Hear Music’, straight rock with ‘Bluebirds’, lovely pop with ‘Be With Me’ and (without any knowledge of Manson’s involvement) ‘Never Learn Not to Love’, raunchy rock with ‘All I Want To Do’ (listen for the intercourse during the fadeout!), pretty muzak with ‘The Nearest Faraway Place’, baroque country with ‘Cotton Fields’, peaceful waltzing with ‘I Went To Sleep’, snowy mountain getaway beauty with ‘Time To Get Alone’, God with ‘Our Prayer’, and complex mind-blowing Wild West extravaganzas with ‘Cabinessence’.

I need to lie down for a second…

Anyways, as such, I Can Hear Music: The 20/20 Sessions has more stuff on it. The set uses the May 1968 sessions as its starting point (the month when ‘Do It Again’ was started) and goes from there. 20/20 wrapped in November, and there was a good amount of live appearances before and after. One particular show in Finsbury Park, Astoria, London on December 8th would later be used for the hastily-assembled, contract-fulfilling Live In London LP that was only available to buy in Europe for a long while. Is it too late for the enterprise to put out a 1968 live set including a fixed up Live In London? Maybe, but it would be neat to consider…

Like Wake The World, I Can Hear Music reveals little details and changes that just make these songs sound even better to these ears. ‘Bluebirds Over the Mountain’, for instance, was a long-criticized track due to its inclusion of a rather scathing hard rock guitar from guest musician Ed Carter. One version here strips that away and downplays some other elements, and at its core, you’ll hear that the Ersel Hickey cover is just a well-produced, nearly tropical-sounding piece of Beach Boys pop with the boys’ own unique stamp that you won’t get elsewhere. I always liked ‘Bluebirds’, and without the intrusive guitar (which I never disliked, mind you), I now know why. ‘Be With Me”s understated beauty is all over the backing track and the humorously sloppy demo as well (throughout, Dennis and the crew forget their lines and substitute empty sections with banter about not having everything ready!), ‘Cotton Fields” much-criticized arrangement – which always channeled some of SMiLE in my not-so-humble opinion – shines without any lead vocals here, and ‘All I Want To Do’ sounds pretty convincing with Dennis handling the vocals (it even includes some of that stuff on the finished song’s fade-out) rather than a growling Mike Love. I also have a newfound love for the instrumental ‘The Nearest Faraway Place’, which I was already sympathetic of. Some critics and fans write it off as muzak, wannabe-Brian fluff, but the alternate version here shows that it could’ve been something unique and special without such a stringy arrangement.

Oh, and more ‘Time To Get Alone’ material – both on here and on Wake The World – is always a joy. I love both Brian’s original ‘Time To Get Alone’ from October 1967 and the 20/20 version, and Carl’s work is highlighted in an included session reel. DEEP AND WIDE. ‘Never Learn Not to Love’ is a song I have trouble listening to knowing that Manson co-wrote it, but the backing for it – again – enhanced my appreciation for what it is a very pretty Dennis Wilson work that arguably reaches his loftier work. A lot of work for that ominous opening gong bang (never knew it even was a gong, I always assumed it was a backwards cymbal crash) is even on here. They went all out in putting this together, didn’t they? The surreal thing is, The Beach Boys enterprise are putting out these sets because of some copyright issue. Apparently the albums are to slip into the public domain if the folks in charge don’t put anything out? Regardless of these circumstances, these aren’t slapped together collections. There’s so much effort here…

Some material from the 20/20 era ended up being released elsewhere. ‘We’re Together Again’, for whatever reason, never made it to the album despite getting finished by fall 1968. ‘We’re Together Again’ wouldn’t be released until the Friends/20/20 two-fer CD came out in 1990 (!), and afterwards it appeared on random collections such as Classics Selected by Brian Wilson. The acappella version is as jaw-dropping as the finished production, as is a countrified instrumental towards the end of the set. Even Brian Wilson was confused, many decades later, as to why it remained unreleased for so long. ‘Sail Plane Song’ is back in its echoey form once again, so you’ll have to seek out Endless Harmony for the untouched original. Some more ‘Ol’ Man River’/’Old Folks at Home’ sessions are presented here, beautiful and near-heartbreaking as ever. (Given that this was the series of recordings that sent Brian over the edge.) Bacharach cover ‘Walk On By’ appears here in extended form, and EIGHT minutes worth of ‘Can’t Wait Too Long’/’Been Waiting Too Long’… It’s amazing how someone like me can just listen to that same repeating riff of that unfinished ditty over and over in different variations…

One striking inclusion is an early version of ‘All I Wanna Do’. Not to be confused with the aforementioned rocker ‘All I Want To Do’, ‘All I Wanna Do’ was one of Brian’s “bedroom tapes” songs, and it was revealed not too long ago that this song originally started out as something Indian-influenced. It’s no surprise, because much of Friends was the result of the boys getting into meditation, which followed their initial exposure to the Maharishi. ‘All I Wanna Do’ was later fleshed out into a proto-dream pop piece, an ethereal two-and-a-half minutes that ended up on the second side of Sunflower, an album and career highlight. This early version is equally stunning, almost jazzy in a way. Like its 1970 successor, it transports you to some indescribably beautiful dreamspace in a sense… Imagine if they had completed this version in late ’68 and put it on 20/20? I’m glad they waited on it though, because I wouldn’t want to trade away the Sunflower version. Just when I thought I couldn’t love a certain song anymore than I already had…

Unlike Wake The World, there are more outtakes and unrealized songs on this collection, some of which had some serious potential. One rather folksy-sounding fragment ‘Well You Know I Knew’ suggests that the boys didn’t have to rely on unfinished Brian compositions and pieces to pad out 20/20, as that one sounds like it could’ve fit in quite nicely with what was hotter in 1967-68. After all, it is a Dennis song, and he was arguably the hip member of the entourage. Silly stuff pads out the rest, which isn’t always ideal listening material, but does provide a peer into the boys’ life and studio days at that point in time. Other Dennis compositions like ‘Love Affair’ and ‘A Time to Live in Dreams’ foreshadow the lusher likes of ‘Forever’, the rough-around-the-edges ‘Peaches’ and the goofball ‘Walkin” keep that quirky post-SMiLE vibe going strong. The dense ‘Mona Kana’, to me, always had potential – even as a lush instrumental. Perhaps if there was more time, or more of something else, Dennis, Carl, and the rest could’ve finished a strong album on their own with minimal Brian contributions. Something as polished as the succeeding Sunflower. Even then, 20/20 is still a first true “band effort”. Everyone stepped up, including Bruce Johnston!

The I Can Hear Music set satisfies all around. Combined with the Wake The World set, and all the other archival sets The Beach Boys enterprise has put out in the last few years… I’m really excited for what’s to come.

We can get a packed-to-the-brim Sunflower sessions box set next year, hmmmm?