ALBUM REVIEWS : D,E,F

Note: Due to regular updating these reviews are not in strict alphabetical order

If there is one album, just ONE, that truly defines vocal surf music to its full potential then, by God, it is this one. Released in the fall of 1964, when the Beach Boys and Jan & Dean were at the very peak of their ‘summer’ period, this offering stands proudly alongside all that “All Summer Long” or “Ride The Wild Surf” could throw at it … and that’s saying something !

Coming together during 1963 as staff songwriters at Screen Gems music, Sloan and Barri produced a strong enough slew of demo recordings that they came to the attentions of Jan Berry and Dean Torrence, who subsequently recorded a number of the duo’s compositions (“Tell ‘em I’m Surfin’” “Summer Means Fun” “Horace The Swingin’ School Bus Driver”), more often than not utilising the young songsmiths themselves as background vocalists. Jan and Dean’s personal manager, Lou Adler, recognised the talents of the duo and signed them to their own recording contract with Imperial Records. The result, which Sloan and Barri saw more as a side project to their daytime songwriting duties, was this classic 11-track album, featuring such momentous moments as “Surfin’ Craze” “Big Gun Board” “This Little Woody” and the afore-mentioned “Tell ‘em I’m Surfin’” and “Summer Means Fun” (the latter also being recorded by Bruce Johnston and Terry Melcher).

The production may not be as full as Jan Berry’s orchestrations, and the vocals not as lush as Brian Wilson’s dense harmonies, and the guitar breaks may even sound a little thin … but what the heck, when the tunes are as strong as these, who cares ! Stick the ol’ deckchair out on the patio, put on your shades and revel in the glorious sounds within. This may have been the pinnacle of the Baggy’s collective career, two South African-only albums (see next page), and a clutch of wonderful yet obscure 45’s were to follow – but every surf fanatic should own this one. Cowabunga ? Yes please …

A rather uncomfortable pairing of genres on this release, predominantly influenced by the California-sound that Nashville-born producer Cason was developing for himself, coupled with the sudden boom for the British invasion that was taking the American industry by storm … and it doesn’t really work too well. The three “Liverpool” tracks that kick off the album – two Beatles and one Searchers tune, complete with additional fake ‘audience’ participation - are relatively weak in comparison to the U.K. ‘originals’ (despite two of them actually having U.S. origins), although they do successfully manage to maintain the raw edge of their ‘beat’ compatriots. Nevertheless, the sudden switch across the ocean to the distinctly U.S. rhythms of the “Dragsters, Cycles & Surfing” sections is completely at odds in both ‘feel’ and approach.

Even the opening number of the Dragster trilogy, the Bobby Morris / Tommy Allsup instrumental “The Challenger”, sounds far more styled in country music than the theme suggests, and whilst a decent cover version of the Jan Berry / Roger Christian auto-opus “Three Window Coupe” stays faithful to the defining Rip Chords take, the album finally manages to step up a gear with the great Cason original, “Classy Lotus Chassy” – a true hot-rod contender – complete with a burning “Johnny B Goode” / ”Fun Fun Fun” guitar intro.

The “cycles” section also then starts off promisingly, with a strong take on the Gary Paxton tune, “Red Hot Scrambler Go!” (previously recorded by Paxton under the name of The Captivations), but then sadly the album loses pace once again – with the two remaining cycle-songs, and all three surfing numbers, being rather non-descript instrumentals. Indeed, none of the “surfing” numbers are really comparable with any of the ‘true’ surfing-instros of previous years … there’s certainly no feel, gut or passion about any of these. Which is a shame as Cason and his cohorts certainly had the ability to produce far better than this patchy affair – but I’m sure Liberty Records, having already had the initial successes from Jan & Dean’s ‘surf’ sound, were really only looking to burn up as much gas as they could whilst the motor on the hot-rod ‘fad’ was still running …

What is apparent about these two releases, right from the off, is that they are not connected to each other in any way at all, despite being credited under the same “Deuce Coupes” banner. The first offering is from L.A. producer Bob Keane’s Del-Fi label, and is one of the many instrumental albums that the label swiftly released during this period, joining in the cavalcade of rush releases to capitalise on the hot-rod craze. The second offering (whilst often confused as to whether it should be credited to the Deuce Coupes or the Shut Downs) is another release from the budget Crown Records label, one in a series of albums that the Bahari Brothers-owned label issued during 1964.

The Del-Fi offering is an enjoyable enough release, assuming that you don’t particularly want to appreciate the individuality of each track, as more often than not one track blends into the next before you even realise it, especially with the roar of the overdubbed engines giving little chance to inhale clean air. The pick of the bunch would possibly be “Gear Masher” and “Satan’s Chariot”, although to be honest the tracks may have even moved on by the time I attempted to fathom out which one I was actually listening to …

For the “Shut Downs” album I was already pretty aware how it was going to sound before the needle touched down into the grooves, having previously heard to rest of the Crown hot-rod releases – and I wasn’t wrong ! Acclaimed studio sessionman Jerry Cole was once again the uncredited main force behind the long-player and his distinct single-layer vocals, coupled with his rhythmic guitar and an accompanying sax, are the most noticeable factors in all of the label’s auto releases – and in fact, such is the similarity between each offering that I’m sure many of the melodies are simply adapted and re-used accordingly (it’s just that I haven’t worked out which ones they are yet …). Yes, they sound under-produced and fairly basic … but each release does manage to stick one or two tunes in the memory bank and they’re all worth a listen – but not one after the after for sanity’s sake.

In the instance of this particular album it’s the opening number, “With My Baby”, that gets the feet tapping and makes you wonder where on earth you've heard it before (answer - Cole rewrote it and included again on the later album by the Winners - see elsewhere) whilst the subsequent track has Cole clearly thinking in Dick-Dale-mode … and that’s not a bad thing …

Dick Dale … the legend. The man who started off this craze for ‘ surf music’ amongst the many teens of southern California who populated such dance venues as the Rendezvous Ballroom in Newport Beach, and the Aragon in nearby Venice. The man who, through his distorted amplifier sound and staccato-styled guitar playing, brought home to many landlocked locals the ‘feel’ of riding the wave, shooting the curl, and of being wiped out.

"Surfer's Choice" was Dick’s first album, initially issued on his own Deltone label at the tail end of 1962, then subsequently re-issued the following March with the promotional power of the larger Capitol Records. It was recorded during various ‘live’ performances at the legendary Rendezvous Ballroom, before a packed crowd of Dale’s loyal following, and it buzzed like no other Dale recording would, despite the succession of a bunch of similar outings that followed over the succeeding twenty months. “King Of The Surf Guitar” (June 1963), “Checkered Flag” (November 1963), “Mr Eliminator” (March 1964) and “Summer Surf” (July 1964) all had their moments of pure Dale magnetism, but none rode the crest so naturally as this debut offering. It kicks off in magnificent style with the jaw-dropping, self-composed “Surf Beat”, a track that starts off with a steady driving beat and a simple chord pattern, before diving into Dale’s instantly recognisable rip-roaring style. This is a much-loved classic amongst followers of the surf-scene, and the subdued saxophone support of Armen Frank and Barry Rillera only add to the emphasis that Dale’s guitar brought to the mix. Somewhat bizarrely this track is then followed by a rendition of the old folk sea-shanty, retelling the story of the “Sloop John B” (given worldwide focus four years later via the best-selling version by The Beach Boys). It’s an odd track to follow such a stunning introduction, with an arrangement that crosses between the original U.S. sounds of Buddy Holly, and the weaker UK-based vocals of Adam Faith, and it almost removes the instant adrenalin rush one gets from the opening number, and yet, thankfully, things get back in order fairly quickly with “Take It Off”, and by the time we hit “Misirlou Twist”, an alternate and lengthier take on, what is probably, Dale’s theme tune, we’re well back on course. Why the single and more accessible version of “Misirlou” isn’t included remains unclear, and this version, complete with strings and Middle-Eastern influence, doesn’t quite hit the same spot, but Dale’s beginning to get in full flow again, and the following “Peppermint Man” shows his raunchy, vocal prowess to the full. Of the remaining tracks, from the “Fade Away” influence on “Surfing Drums”, to the slow and steady rhythms of “Death Of A Gremmie”, Dick and his band offer us the full range, and with “Let’s Go Trippin’” as the album closer we are joyfully brought back to where we started …

However, it really only works at full volume, so crank it up to ten, and let it wash over you. Again and again … which is perhaps where “Checkered Flag” from 1963 falls a little short of the finishing line, for with this third offering Dick is very much in danger of losing his originality. Cranking it up to ten, or even eleven, still can’t take away the fact that Capitol Records had by this time started to mould him in the way that they believed that hot-rod music should be. They’d seen the successes of their own Beach Boys, Jan and Dean over at Liberty, or Gary Usher at Dot or wherever, and by stripping Dick of whatever independence he had they assumed they could shape him in the same way. But, alas, not so …

 “Checkered Flag” is at times an enjoyable enough offering, other times not so, and there just isn’t enough of what Dick Dale could, and should be allowed to do. Let rip …

Out of the twelve songs featured, six are instrumental and really show tantalising glimpses of what the maestro of the fret board had in reserve, but the opening vocal number, Gary Paxton’s “The Scavenger”, merely sounds like a uneasy cross between Dion and Eddie Cochran. For three of the recordings Gary Usher and his studio team were bought into the equation, but sadly the combination of styles just appear uncomfortable, with the two vocal tracks, “Big Black Cad” and “426 Super Stock”, just way off the mark … and the abysmal offering that is Carol Connors’ “It Will Grow On You” just doesn’t sit at all. Check out the two closing Dale contributions to the album, “The Wedge” and “Night Rider” and maybe skip on the remainder, at least for now …