Reviews

Few long-running groups can claim one mythical “lost album.”  But for decades, The Beach Boys were able to claim two.  The first, of course, was SMiLE – the late Brian Wilson’s masterwork in the wake of Pet Sounds that pushed the envelope of popular music and conventional song structure.  The second was a very different album from a very different Brian Wilson.  It’s finally seen its first near-complete release from Capitol/UMe as part of The Beach Boys’ 3CD/3LP box set We Gotta Groove: The Brother Studio Years which also chronicles the making of 1976’s 15 Big Ones and 1977’s The Beach Boys Love You.  (Please see Part One of this review.)  The album was Adult/Child.

While not as cohesive as Love You, Adult/Child showcases an extension of that LP’s highly personal, often idiosyncratic songwriting.  Had it been released in 1977, Adult/Child would have featured original songs, meaningful covers, and leftovers from the early part of the decade.  Its sessions were split between tracks recorded by primarily by Brian and his brothers Carl and Dennis, and lush orchestral charts reuniting him with arranger-conductor Dick Reynolds.  An early hero of Brian’s for his work with The Four Freshmen, Reynolds provided the timeless orchestrations for The Beach Boys Christmas Album in 1964.

Even as he navigated the often-tumultuous ups and downs of his personal life, Brian Wilson wasn’t one to repeat himself.  Whereas The Beach Boys Love You embraced a forward-thinking D.I.Y. aesthetic, a number of tracks intended for Adult/Child would instead harken back to the big band sounds of Brian’s youth.  Demos of “It’s Over Now” and “Still I Dream of It,” with Brian accompanying himself on grand piano, were recorded late in 1976; those raw, unadorned demos appear on We Gotta Groove, as well.  The set doesn’t present a “finished” album but rather a curated immersion into the sessions.

Both aspects of the Adult/Child equation are in evidence on the track that opens the set on both CD and vinyl LP.  Carl takes the lead on “Life Is for the Living,” a big, bright, and bold paean to health. Its vivacious melody is matched by Reynolds’ brassy orchestration (four trumpets, four trombones, and four French horns).  The “child” comes into play with the earnest, goofy lyric that implores the listener, “Don’t sit around on your ass smokin’ grass” and “Cut out the sweets and start eating three times a day.”  If “Life Is for the Living” might have opened Adult/Child on a buoyant note, Wilson’s soul was laid bare on its two most heartbreakingly beautiful tracks.

Brian composed a standards-worthy melody with “It’s Over Now,” inspiring Carl to deliver one of his most affecting vocals.  (Brian and then-wife Marilyn also sing on the track, too.)  Lyrically, it’s a cry of desperation arising from the dissolution of a relationship, but Wilson’s turns of phrase are filled with sheer anguish (“I need to take this fear and force it down…” or “And though I played the role, I lost my soul/It’s still within your heart”) and naked vulnerability.  Reynolds sets it to a sensitive chart, with The Wrecking Crew’s Dennis Budimir lending a spacey flourish thanks to the phaser on his electric guitar.

“Still I Dream of It” is just as ravishing and just as wrenching.  Brian’s lyrics are in a Love You-like slice-of-life vein (“Time for supper now/Day’s been hard and I’m so tired/I feel like eating now…”) but with a pronounced spirituality and disarming innocence (“When I was younger my mother told me Jesus loved the world/And if that’s true then, why hasn’t he helped me find a girl?”).  Fluttering woodwinds and ethereal backing vocals add haunting qualities to Wilson’s plea: “Still I dream of it/Of that happy day when I can say I’ve fallen in love/And it haunts me so/Like a dream that’s somehow linked to all the stars above…” Like so much of his best work, “Still I Dream of It” is, in essence, a prayer: “Someday I’ll find my world…”

Reynolds also arranged a sweet cover of the Mitchell Parish/Peter DeRose standard “Deep Purple,” marked by a tremulous Brian lead and more cosmic guitar from Budimir, and a lovely, mellow Wilson instrumental with a pastoral feel, “New England Waltz.”

The remaining tracks on Adult/Child might have led Mike Love to make the conclusion quoted by Howie Edelson in his stellar liner notes: “Brian came in with random things that didn’t necessarily fit together…I think there were just too many random ideas.”  Whereas the Reynolds-arranged tracks are a cohesive whole, they’re barely one side of a record’s length.  But that’s not to say that the remaining material wasn’t equally as compelling.

“There’s been songs about celebration/But if you ask me, I can’t see why/There’s too much pain, too much pain in my heart now/Ooh, you’re gonna have to prove it to me,” goes the lyric to “Everybody Wants to Live.”  It’s a stripped-down track featuring just the Wilsons and Billy Hinsche on vocals and instruments, and musically and lyrically it might have been a better fit for Love You, but it’s another insight into Brian’s state of mind during this creatively fertile period. “Lines” is rough and undeveloped but there’s an insistent, almost Bacharach-esque quality to the melody before it turns into pure Wilson and then takes a further shift into rock-and-roll.  (All that in less than two minutes!)  Wilson’s mind was constantly on the go.

The “Child” in Adult/Child is indulged on “It’s Trying to Say,” with its baseball references and lyrical affirmations sung by Dennis at his most gravelly, and Brian’s beloved folk song/nursery rhyme “Shortenin’ Bread.”  (The decidedly politically incorrect “Hey Little Tomboy,” which eventually appeared on 1978’s M.I.U. Album, was also mooted at one time for Adult/Child but has been left off of this presentation without comment.  The Wilson/Love “H.E.L.P. Is on the Way,” recorded in 1970 and released in 1993, was another candidate for the album.)

With just nine completed songs here, Adult/Child has been rounded out with various odds and ends.  There’s much to savor in Dick Reynolds’ backing tracks which appear on both the CD and LP versions.  The CD then offers further treasures including Carl pouring his heart into a lyrically unfinished version of Dennis’ “Holy Man” that makes one yearn for what never was.  Despite its incomplete nature, the majesty of the song shines through.  (In 2009, Foo Fighters’ Taylor Hawkins finally added vocals to the track; ten years later, Brian May and Roger Taylor of Queen further embellished the original recording.)  There are a few fascinating cuts of Carl woodshedding at Brother as well as the gorgeous “10,000 Years Ago,” a Dennis/Mike co-write heard in instrumental form. Its dramatic sweep cedes to a funky groove, which is perfectly in line with the experimental feel that characterizes so much of this period.

We Gotta Groove also premiers a chunky, synthy backing track of The Spencer Davis Group’s “Gimme Some Lovin’,” and a 1975 piano-and-vocal version of “In the Back of My Mind” with Brian accompanied on piano by “Along Comes Mary” composer Tandyn Almer.  Credit where it’s due throughout this set to Brother Studios engineers Earle Mankey and Stephen Moffitt who so beautifully captured the recordings here.  Brian’s old friend, engineer Chuck Britz, also was at the desk for some of the tracks.

Produced by James Saez and Howie Edelson and engineered and mixed by Saez, We Gotta Groove: The Brother Studio Years boasts a striking design by Paul Moore to complement the audio and written contents.  Edelson’s notes join rare photos and memorabilia in the 40-page, full-sized squarebound booklet that accompanies the 3CD/3LP set.  The CDs are housed in an LP-sized folder within the slipcase featuring the studio’s distinctive stained-glass artwork.

We Gotta Groove compellingly revisits this period in which Brian Wilson, changed but no less a strong presence, returned to The Beach Boys’ creative orbit.  This is a story of someone turning adversity into art; the man who famously proclaimed he “just wasn’t made for these times” nonetheless persevered with his brothers, cousin, and friends to create music made for every time.  Brian’s presence was still felt on The Beach Boys’ next effort, M.I.U. Album, and less so on 1979’s L.A. (Light Album) which marked the return of Bruce Johnston into the creative fold; Bruce would take the helm as solo producer for 1980’s Keepin’ the Summer Alive, the final Beach Boys album to feature Dennis Wilson (albeit in a limited capacity via a more than decade-old track) before his untimely death.  One hopes UMe’s series will continue to reevaluate these albums and cast further light on the hidden gems from their sessions.  In the meantime, We Gotta Groove is a poignant celebration of the memory of Brian, Carl, and Dennis Wilson and the enduring music they created with Mike Love and Al Jardine.  Now, get in shape and plug your head into life!

We Gotta Groove: The Brother Studio Years is available for order now from uDiscoverMusic.com.