The Beach Boys: 15 Big Ones

A few months ago, I had the pleasure of attending The Secret Cinema at Moore College in Philadelphia, where curator Jay Schwartz presented A Walk On The Soft Side: Films Of The Beach Boys And Friends, a fascinating insight into early and mid-1970s relics of The Beach Boys and other assorted bands of the day. As an anglophile, I never got the allure of this kind of stuff, and often looked back on American things from the 1970s with varying degrees of disdain and humor. (For clarification: I’m American and was born in 1983, so what the hell do I know, really?) But, you’ll notice I used the superlative “fascinating”; it completely changed my opinion not only of the kitschy camp of that era, but also of the Beach Boys.

To me, the Beach Boys were nothing more than a good-time surf rock band, who happened to have a few hits along the way before Brian Wilson mentally combusted. Granted, I’d had Pet Sounds and two of their three greatest hits collections for years, purchased more at the urging of a friend who loved the Beach Boys (and hated the Beatles, I might add – this was completely confounding to me) than out of genuine interest. And while I listened to them and enjoyed them, I never really “got” them, and went back to the comfort of Revolver, Sgt. Pepper, and 1967 – 1970. But watching the documentary on the Beach Boys, created in 1976 at a time when a major campaign was put in motion (“Brian’s Back”) to herald the return of Brian Wilson after a lengthy sabbatical, I gained a new respect for them – and also a growing dislike of Mike Love, who my bewildered girlfriend asked if he was trying to unsuccessfully and uncharismatically ape the flamboyance of Elton John and Freddie Mercury. (I had no answer for her except to stare on in disbelief at his strange antics.)

With the sounds of the Wilson brothers and the band bouncing around my head (especially a humorous performance of ‘I’m Bugged At My Old Man’), I consulted my extensive iTunes collection and decided to give 15 Big Ones a whirl. Oddly enough, this album has a special place in my heart, as it was the gateway to the other albums, and made me appreciate their classic run – from Pet Sounds through Holland – all the more. What’s unfortunate is that, as an album, 15 Big Ones sure is a big one of number two.

With the Endless Summer compilation high in the charts, the band decided to get an album out quickly, and 15 Big Ones is a mish-mash of covers and originals, featuring new songs and production by Brian Wilson. The covers are a mostly uninspired mess, a misguided attempt to recapture a fleeting moment of youth. ‘Rock And Roll Music’ sounds lethargic, while ‘Talk To Me’, ‘Palisades Park’, and ‘In The Still Of The Night’ are downright bland. Only ‘Chapel Of Love’ and ‘Blueberry Hill’ are interesting, while album closer ‘Just Once In My Love’ is a sublime duet between brothers Brian and Carl.

The original material isn’t much better. Mike Love is full to the fore here, and for anyone who can’t stand his nasally whine, 15 Big Ones isn’t the ideal album, because he’s all over the place here. ‘Everyone’s In Love With You’ is insipid, a schmaltzy snoozer of a song, though ‘It’s OK’, cowritten by Love and Brian, is one of the standout tracks. ‘Had To Phone Ya’, too, is a quirky track, with delightful harmonies and a few double entendrés slipping through, and the 1970 B-side, ‘Susie Cincinnati’, is a pleasant rocker. But the standout original to me is ‘That Same Song’, only because of its superior rendition with a gospel choir in the aforementioned NBC special. The album version is limp, with a musical backing that is overly and needlessly complex; if the gospel choir version had been released instead, it could have been a latter-day Beach Boys classic.

The most offensive song on the album is ‘TM Song’ – not because I find Transcendental Meditation offensive, but because it’s such a dire, stupid song, with a cringe-inducing, phoney verbal spat at the beginning before Brian (with Al Jardine as singer) extolls the pleasantries of TM. I so wanted to believe this was the work of Mike Love, because of how frequently he praises TM while doing everything but practicing peace and harmony in his public appearances – and because it sounded similar to the second most offensive Beach Boys song that I can think of, ‘Student Demonstration Time’, which was also written by him – but I was dismayed to learn that Brian Wilson penned it. The only way I can tolerate this 90 second piece of crap is by imagining that Wilson was pulling one over on Jardine.

Ultimately, 15 Big Ones is the Beach Boys unintentionally pulling one over on their fans, and is the first creatively stagnant album they released, though it certainly wouldn’t be their last. Whereas most of their previous albums were consistently great with one or two questionable tracks, here that’s the opposite. Without realizing it at the time, the Beach Boys effectively and swiftly killed off their creativity and boundary-pushing with this album, and while it resulted in massive exposure and sales, it merely confirmed that the only Beach Boys the public wanted was an oldies Beach Boys. The forced nostalgia with the covers and embarrassing songwriting elsewhere was a sad indicator of how far the Boys had fallen; apart from a few flashes of inspiration on later albums, 15 Big Ones is the beginning of the end.

Essential listening: It’s OK, Had To Phone Ya, That Same Song, Just Once In My Life