Ý When bangSheetís editorial
staff decided it was time to check the pulse of surf music in contemporary culture, I was
the obvious choice. I owned a Dick Dale CD. And I grew up surfing.Ý At bangSheet,
thatís whatís known as an expert.
Ý It didnít take me long to confirm what I suspected: I didnít know shit
about surf music. My assumption was that this genre of rock lived a short, trendy life
somewhere between Frankie and Annetteís beach blanket and the Surf Punks. Now, I know
enough to know that surf didnít die. As usual, mainstream America just stopped
listening. But over the years, this genuinely American form of rockíníroll
inspired artists who went on to define entire new genres including hot rod rock and one of
my own favorites, the garage band punk of the early 1980s. Surf has evolved too. In fact,
surf music disc jockey Phil Dirt scoffed when asked how many bands were still doing the
surf sound. "Still doing surf? Hundreds of bands - almost as many as were active in
the sixties, and a few were also there then."
Ý There are bands who remain true to the vintage sounds of its early days, and those
who are pushing the music in new directions ń and getting the occasional attention of
critics who usually only bother to pay attention to whatís on the radio station play
lists.
Ý For myself, I have spent the past month drowning in the surf, as it
were, and
Iím not ready to come up for air yet. The surf artists I have corresponded with
donít seem too concerned with the critics. They, like the sport their music is named
after, are drawn to the music for different reasons. And the damp-electric reverberations
of their creations are an infectious sound bound to infect and entice all but the driest
landlubbers. As Dirt says, surf artists abound. You wonít hear them on many radio
stations, but the reverb is there.
Ý As I say, I grew up riding waves. First as a punk in Florida making many sojourns
to spots like Sebastian Inlet, south of Melbourne, Fla., and up to Cape Hatteras, North
Carolina. Later in life I moved to California where I sampled waves from Baja California
north to the rumbling monsters that rolled out of the chilly Pacific and crashed against
rocky coastlines in Humboldt County, Calif. And along the way, I listened to music. I
presumed it was surf music, since I was listening to it while going surfing. But I
wasnít even close. This isnít the Beach Boys. This isnít the Surf Punks.
According to Dirt, this isnít even the Ventures.
Ý If we are going to write about surf music, then letís be true to its
definitions. Because this music was royally screwed by timing to enjoy but a brief stint
of popularity. Now, we give it its due.
Whether you look at its past or its present, trying to force surf into some basic
definitions involving style, mood and message is as dangerous as an inland surfer paddling
out for a big day at Mavericks.
Ý Say surf music is about surfing, and Iíll play you the Dick Dale hit
"Misirlou," a song that was a huge hit when it was released in May of 1962, and
again when it brought surf back briefly to the forefront of the popular music scene when
it appeared in the film "Pulp Fiction." For surf, it was the first recording
that Dale used the Fender Reverb ń sort of like the Wright Brothers at Kitty Hawk.
ÝÝÝÝ The problem is, this song has nothing to do with riding waves.
Itís a Greek folk song.
Ý Say surfing is about emoting the feelings of a fun, laid-back lifestyle, and
Iíll play you a few cuts off the Mermenís "A Glorious Lethal Euphoria"
and weíll see how laid-back you feel.
Ý Tell me surf is music written by surfers and Iíll play you one of the most
famous surf songs of the early days of the genre, "Surfin Bird," by the
Trashmen. Clearly, this band is recognized as one of the great instrumental surf bands of
all time. Theyíre from Minneapolis, Minn. (Theyíre still at it up in the Twin
Cities, playing a revival tour with some other grand 60s bands from their home town.) Rick
Escobar, lead guitarist for one of the fine traditional-style surf bands, the now-defunct
Woodies, can hang with anyone when it comes to reverb. But surfing? "I wouldnít
know a thing about surfing if you hit me over the head with a longboard," he told me.
And, of course, there is Dale himself, King of the Surf Guitar. He surfed, right?
Heís pictured riding a board on his first album, "Surferís Choice."
But legend has it he could barely make it up on that board, and that other surfing shots
of Dale were taken in swimming pools. Of course, Dale offers a different take on all of
this on his Web site, where he also takes credit
for inventing surf music in the early 1950s, about a decade before anyone else thinks it
began. But his music and talent speak for itself. And if he wants to take credit for
inventing surfÖand nuclear fusionÖand pasteurizationÖand the ribbed condom,
well, by golly thatís OK by me.
Ý But letís not get bogged down. (Yeah, imagine getting bogged down in a
bangSheet article.) Weíre still trying to define surf. Some surf borrows some of
these attributes. But there is only one element I can
find in all surf.
Thatís the reverb. The sound that is surf. From its beginnings with the Belairs and
Dick Dale & his Del-Tones, to new bands like the Penetrators, Pollo Del Mar and the
Slacktones, it is the reverb that is constant.
Ahhh, the reverb. Just what the hell is reverb?
Electronic reverberation, the altering of sound to provide a type of
echo effect, was not new at the dawn of the 1960s. What was new was a portable device,
developed by Fender Instruments in Santa Ana, that would provide a reverberation effect to
an electric guitar outside of the recording studio.
- John Blair, author, The Illustrated Dscography of Surf Music
Ý Yes. Thatís it. Thanks John.
Ý OK, so the drummers, bass players and those occasional vocalists of surf bands may
not be pleased to see the guitar take the bow for the sound that is surf. But itís
hard to deny it when you listen. Like surf legend Nat Young out on the nose of his
longboard racing the lip, a surf guitar ranges up and down the melody of any great surf
song. It drives with the beat. Like a great surfer reading a wave, the surf guitarist
knows the boundaries of a song. The drum and the bass lay it out, and the guitarist flirts
with the edges, seeing just how far he can take it before cutting back into the heart of
the song.
Ý Escobar, guitarist for the Woodies out of the Bay Area, gave me his own definition
of surf. "Well I can only speak for myself but I define surf music, as a melody, no
melody, then there's no tune," he wrote. "Think of any great music in any style
and the melody just sits in your head for years. Other than that I say it's the delivery.
In this case itís drums, bass, mostly Fender guitars and amps with a whole lotta
reverb."
ÝÝ I think I understand what he is saying. Itís like surf music is what the
artists do to the songs. On the Woodies CD, "Swimmin in the Reverb," (still
available through POP Records ) Rick
and his talented team produce a driving album, rich in an experimentation of sounds.
Ý "Our goal for that band was to have fun and be true to the original 60's style
with some added punch to it," Escobar said. "We just took it as a challenge for
ourselves to attempt to recreate the early surf sound."
Ý You hear elements of everything from Flamenco guitar on songs like "Spanish
Word," to the Eastern pulsations of Indian music on songs like "The Swami."
But the constant is the reverb dancing its way across each song. (Escobar, by the way, is
now working on a CD drawing from country, surf, jazz, blues and the kitchen sink ń
with, of course, the required reverb ń and weíll be looking for it here at
bangSheet in about a year.)
Ý Allen Whitman, bassist for the Mermen boils it down even further.
Ý "Surf music can be defined as a specific genre involving straight 4/4 beats,
simple chord structures that augment a (hopefully) memorable electric guitar melody that
has reverb," he said.ÝÝÝÝ "Anyone can write or play
it."
Ý Letís not try to get too analytical with surf, because the bottom line is this
stuff is just a full-tilt blast to listen to. The songs are mostly minus vocals, and high
on energy. And that is what helped surf catch on in its early days.
Ý Phil Dirt has written the Old Testament and the New Testament of surf. According to
the Book of Dirt, surf got its start from the sounds of the great rockers and guitarists
of the infancy of rock in the 1950s. Artists like Link Wray, Duane Eddy, Chet Atkins and
Les Paul are credited by Dirt as planting the seed for surf.
Ý OK. You know what? Fuck this. All Iím doing here is ripping off Dirt.
Heís written all about this, and all Iíll do at this point is filter it
and make it less
accurate. Especially since I havenít heard half the shit heís talking about. So
do this. Go read his pageÖIíll
wait.ÝÝÝ Go read it. NOW! Ý
Ý There. Thatís much better.
Ý Now, after 7,000 words, you know that surf was inspired by the early masters of
rock. Now you know that surf itself spawned many other spinoff forms of music.
Ý And you know that the earliest pioneers of the surf sound were about trying to see
what sounds they could create with the new toys that had been invented. The reverb
discovery was sort of likeÝ "Wow, check out what this will do." Itís
to their credit that these artists took it well beyond that, inspired by musicians from
other forms of rock. Dale was, for example, tuned into Hank Williams, who, like Dale,
played his guitar left-handed and upside down. These early masters of reverb took music
from across the world and said, "Hey, look at what I can do to this." In the
process, a new sound emerged.
Ý But it was a sound that struggled to maintain its definition. For purists, surf got
lost in the beach blanket bullshit of Frankie and Annette. Much of the stuff that came out
of that era would not be considered surf by Dirt ń he isnít even willing to add
the Beach Boys to the list of surf bands.
Ý Todayís surf musicians arenít so hard on the beach party era. Both
Escobar and Whitman told me they loved the old Beach Boys tunes.
Ý "I think surf did help expose kids of the 60's to Rock and Roll," Escobar
said. "A billion bad beach movies and some fine music came out of that time period.
It lacked lyrics but wasn't a threat to freaked out parents."
Ý But surf is like that bright kid with the wonderful future who died too young. And
if you need another reason to hate mainstream rock, Iíll give you one. It killed
surf. To be specific, the British invasion killed it.
Ý
With an average genre lasting 8 to 10 years, 2 to be born, another
couple to coalesce, 2 for adolescence and break out of the narrowness of the birth channel
definition, and then 4 or 5 to explode multi-directionally until new seeds are sown and
other new genre are born. This familiar pattern is ever-present in music. Surf was cut
down in its infancy by its own childish sappy vocals and the raw edge of the British
Invasion.
- Phil Dirt
Ý For a few brief moments, surf was still king. In fact, the Rolling Stones actually
opened for the Trashmen. And I suppose if you want to talk childish sappy vocals,
itís hard to get worse than the Trashmenís "Surfiní Bird."
Ý
"Well everybodyís heard about the bird. /Ý Well a bird,
bird, bird, bird is a word." (repeat this mantra about 20 times before transition
into "Pappa ooo mow mow pappa oo mow mowÖ" You get the point.)
Ý There have been a few brief bursts back into the popular scene, once in the early
1980s and again with the brief attention from "Pulp Fiction." But mainstream
America has never been much of a way to judge whatís worth hearing anyways.
Ý Today, surf music is strong on the West Coast, especially in the San Francisco Bay
Area, but in your town itís likely you wonít be able to hear much reverb on the
local radio station. That doesnít mean the
surf isnít out there. From
Cleveland, Ohio, to Alabama and Texas, the surf sound is alive. And that may be the saving
grace of todayís music scene. So many people are becoming so disgusted with the
mainstream that theyíre seeking out the nooks and crannies for new sounds and in the
process rediscovering some old ones.
Ý Donít presume that todayís surf is just a nostalgic rehashing of the
sound created years ago. Like any genre, surf has evolved, as each band takes it in a
different direction.
Ý Again, Escobar, from The Woodies: "My attraction to surf is its unique sound
created by healthy dose of reverb. As far as genres I don't think it's much different than
playing bluegrass, Texas swing or any other style that's not in the mainstream anymore.
But it all is still cool nonetheless."
Ý I wish I had a few more months and a few hundred dollars to buy old stuff and learn
more about both the early days and the new sounds.
Ý Surfers often have what they call secret spots. They are places only they know
about, where the waves break perfectly when the wind is right and the swell is running.
And they will go there, hide their cars and paddle out to savor a few perfect waves all to
themselves. I can give you a map to a really choice spot up in Humboldt County if you mail
me $10 or a new surf CD. Because unlike surf music, I have no soul. (Thatís my
conclusion you rat bastards. Did you like it?)
Ý