There are probably a few people reading this who have the following timeline in their head about The Beach Boys: Early songs about girls and surfing, Brian Wilson hears Rubber Soul and replies with Pet Sounds, Brian Wilson hears Sgt. Pepper drives him to attempt to better that, and he goes so far off the rails he ends up with a sand-pit in his living room trying to perfect an album that, until 2004, was the most famous lost masterpiece in rock history, Smile! He then descends into mental illness and drug addiction. In the meantime, the other Beach Boys toured without him and released ‘Kokomo’.
The gap between the abandonment of Smile! and that awful 1988 single is littered with false starts and under-appreciated cult albums. 1971’s Surf’s Up is the pick of the bunch. After the relative commercial failure of Sunflower, the band were divided between the more artistic and experimental Wilson brothers, Brian, Carl, and Dennis and the more straight-laced Mike Love, Al Jardine, and Bruce Johnston, who were more concerned with the band reclaiming their mid-Sixties popularity. New manager Jack Riley knew that the latter’s wishes were not possible without the Wilson brothers applying themselves. So he asked the band to try to engage a hipper audience with more politically and socially aware songs, as well as finishing the mythical ‘Surf’s Up’ from the aborted Smile! Sessions. What Riley ended up with was half an hour of the most fantastically produced, melodic, and soulful music you are ever likely to hear. It details the depression and fragile state of both the band and its bandleader as he faced the pressures of being required to write material and be dictated to on the direction of it in a fragile, drug-addled state of mind.
The album opens with tracks that showcase The Beach Boys grappling with new directions. Love and Jardine's contributions, ‘Don’t Go Near The Water’, a stark warning against environmental destruction, and ‘Student Demonstration Time’, a clumsy protest song, highlight their willingness to embrace more serious themes. Jardine offers a metaphor for the band's troubled state in ‘Lookin’ at Tomorrow (A Welfare Song)’, while his whimsical ‘Take a Load off Your Feet’ offers some lightness. Johnston's ‘Disney Girls (1957)’ adds a sublime, nostalgic touch, and Carl Wilson’s ‘Feel Flows’ and ‘Long Promised Road’ introduce a jazzy, expansive approach that defines much of the album's spirit. ‘Student Demonstration Time’ is also a song on this album. These tracks, though mostly solid, are overshadowed by the album’s final third, the section dominated by Brian Wilson. Here, the fragile emotional core of the album is exposed, notably in the haunting ‘A Day in the Life of a Tree’, a bizarre yet poignant reflection of Brian's state of mind, and the melancholic ‘Till I Die’, one of his final great compositions. Surf’s Up stands apart by offering a soundscape that blends lush orchestration with fragile vulnerability, setting the stage for the iconic title track.
The album closes with a breathtaking culmination of both time and creativity, thanks to Carl Wilson’s extraordinary work on ‘Surf’s Up’. Carl takes the five-year-old demo of the track, initially sung by Brian at the piano, and brings it back to life in a way that is both reverent and innovative. The demo, with its delicate and vulnerable piano-driven vocal, captures Brian’s early vision of the song, a fragile moment in the band’s history that had never been fully realised. This demo, which can be found in full on the 1993 box set and is, without question, worth the price of the entire package, had been languishing in the archives, a ghost of what might have been. Yet, in Carl’s hands, it becomes more than just a historical curiosity; it becomes the heart of Surf’s Up.
Carl’s vocal, recorded anew for the track, introduces a new, more grounded perspective, adding a sense of maturity and reflection to the piece. The blend of Carl’s voice with Brian’s original vocal creates a powerful emotional resonance as if Carl is both holding on to the past and gently moving the song into the present. This seamless integration of two separate versions of the song speaks volumes about the band’s ability to evolve while remaining connected to their roots. The final minute is where the magic truly happens. As the two versions of the song come together, they are accompanied by a soaring choral refrain from the rest of the band, which elevates the track to a level of grandeur that matches the emotional weight of its lyrics. In that sense, it is very much meeting Sgt. Pepper’s closer, ‘A Day In The Life’ where it finds it.
4,000 holes in Blackburn, Lancashire
It is always essential to have a sense of perspective when writing these. Some of the tracks we have looked at have been lightweight, and there’s very little written on them because there’s very little to write about. So, if I knew nothing about this next song, which would be tricky, some quotes about it would be pretty off-putting.
A Moog synthesiser adds a layer of otherworldliness, creating a soundscape that feels both nostalgic and futuristic at the same time.
Perhaps the most poignant moment comes at the end, when Brian himself returns to the studio, contributing his voice once more to the track that had once eluded him. It’s a symbolic return to the creative process for Brian, a moment of redemption that completes the circle of the song’s tumultuous journey. His re-entry into the song is both a personal and artistic reconciliation, as if he is finally at peace with the version of ‘Surf’s Up’ that had haunted him for years. The result is a stunning synthesis of old and new, a robust emotional climax that encapsulates the themes of the entire album: a fusion of nostalgia, creativity, and the passage of time.
In this final section of Surf’s Up, Carl Wilson’s orchestration not only provides a fitting conclusion to the album but also cements Surf’s Up as one of The Beach Boys’ most ambitious and emotionally resonant works. The track’s resolution, with its meeting of past and present, underscores a time in the band’s history when they still could transcend their earlier surf music roots and explore more profound, more complex emotional landscapes.
Great article! Got that album when it first came out and it still is in my music rotation. Recently highlighted it as part of my Rearview Mirror posts here on Substack.
First, a nod do @lindabradyrevival for posting this. “Surf’s Up” has always been one of my secret favorites, something that makes me feel above average just because I know about it. It’s nice to learn so much more about it after all these years. I’m still a little confused though about the Carl -v- Brian of it. The demo you posted, that’s Brian, right? Or is that Carl, since you say Brian only came in at the end of the final version. What exactly was Carl’s contribution?