psychedelic pop

Record #742: Beck – Hyperspace (2019)

/ Nathaniel FitzGerald

Since scoring the megahit “Loser” nearly thirty years ago, Beck Hansen has established himself as one of the most inventive—and inconsistent—musicians in the mainstream.

His prolific career has run the gamut from Technicolor hip hop to cartoon funk to sparse singer-songwriter ballads to trippy electronica to psychedelic ring leader to fuzzy alt-rock (he wrote all of the Sex Bob-Omb songs in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World), grabbing elements from dub reggae, punk rock, jazz, and country music. The term “chameleon” is thrown around to a lot of artists, but Beck truly embodies that.

While he usually hits more than he misses, his extensive catalogue is not necessarily perfect. Identities are shed and revisited with varying success. But when he does it well, he really does it well. 

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Record #701: The Moody Blues – In Search of the Lost Chord (1968)

/ Nathaniel FitzGerald

I discovered all too recently that the Moody Blues weren’t the sort of schlocky, soulless dad rock that I had expected them to be.

Instead, they were charming pioneers that guided much of psychedelic pop’s shift to progressive rock—much closer to The Zombies and Pink Floyd than the Allman Brothers.

After being captured by the incredible Days of Future Passed and the otherworldly On the Threshold of a Dream, I had been searching for the album between them. Having now acquired it, it’s everything I had hoped for.

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Record #698: Gorillaz – The Now Now (2018)

/ Nathaniel FitzGerald

At some point in the mid to late 2000s, Gorillaz founder Damon Albarn decided that leading the world’s best cartoon band wasn’t enough, and started to aim a bit higher.

After three massive statements filled with star-studded collaborations, Gorillaz became icons in the music world. Each release was a zeitgeist, heralded by a massive web presence.

But then in 2018 they quietly released The Now Now, an album as subdued as its marketing. That doesn’t stop it from being just as rewarding.

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Record #439: Grizzly Bear – Painted Ruins (2017)

/ Nathaniel FitzGerald

painted ruins

Any time I find myself in a conversation about how modern music is garbage, I always bring up Grizzly Bear. Veckatimest is a flawless record that deserves to be listed next to albums like Pet Sounds and Odyssey and Oracle. It was a breakthrough that netted them an invitation to tour with Radiohead.
Grizzly Bear might have been doomed to live the rest of their career in the shadow of one perfect record, but the records that have followed have been similarly glorious.
Shields saw the group exploring sparser arrangements and a more measured composition. But, the record had a hard time maintaining the bliss of the first few tracks. The last half slowed the tempo down to dangerous levels, and the record ended up being a little forgettable.

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Record #317: The Doors – Waiting for the Sun (1968)

/ Nathaniel FitzGerald

Record #317: The Doors - Waiting for the Sun (1968) For being psychedelic mainstays, the Doors are tragically unhip among certain musical circles. A lot of that has to do with Hello, I Love You, a hokey, clumsy pop single released by a band that just...

For being psychedelic mainstays, the Doors are tragically unhip among certain musical circles.

A lot of that has to do with “Hello, I Love You,” a hokey, clumsy pop single released by a band that just the year earlier released two classic albums in the psychedelic canon. It has always been my least favorite Doors single (well…excepting their cover of Backdoor Man).

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Record #244: The Beach Boys – Smiley Smile (1967)

/ Nathaniel FitzGerald

You’ve probably heard the story before: Brian Wilson hears the Beatles’ Rubber Soul, decides to make the greatest album of all time. He succeeds with an album called Pet Sounds, which Paul showed John, and they started working on Sgt. Pepper’s. Paul shows some of it to Brian, who is already trying to top Pet Sounds with an album called SMiLE (which everyone is rabid with anticipation for), and Brian collapses under the pressure, succumbing to drugs and mental illness. The project is abandoned. The world wouldn’t see SMiLE until he recorded a new version in the late twenty aughts, then pieced together the original tapes in 2011.

But the Beach Boys were under a contract–they had to release something. That release, called Smiley Smile, was a compilation of the most completed songs from the SMiLE sessions (a majority of which wouldn’t appear on the finished project). Continue reading →

Record #24: The Beach Boys – Pet Sounds (1966)

/ Nathaniel FitzGerald

Were I given to brevity, this post would say one thing.

“This album is perfect.”

However, I am not given to brevity, so I will be expanding that review to varying degrees of verbosity.
This album is perfect because…

Having heard The Beatles’ Rubber Soul, the Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson quit touring with the rest of the group to focus on creating the greatest pop album ever. By all accounts, he succeeded. Pet Sounds so far surpasses the easy-going, vapid California-centric music the group had gotten famous for that it’s hard to understand that it’s the same five guys. While the lush harmonies are still present (What would the Beach Boys without their vocal interplay?), there’s less of the ba-bas and doo-wahs, with more emphasis placed on the small orchestra Brian Wilson hired to play on the tracks, to the point where there are two fully instrumental numbers (which are excellent, despite what anyone says).

And where their earlier material rode the waves of West-Coast beach culture and a nation’s desire to party, Pet Sounds finds them diving into personal waters for the first time. There’s a self-doubt that pervades Wilson’s lyrics, even on the love songs (“I may not always love you…” starts God Only Knows). While tracks like I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times and Don’t Talk (Lay Your Head On My Shoulder) are easily identified as sad songs, other, bouncier tracks are a bit more deceptive. Here Today, with its raucous orchestra and delayed bass solo, tricks you into letting the top down and singing along–until you realize he’s warning his ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend about what a Jezebel she is. In fact, only Wouldn’t It Be Nice and the cover Sloop John B showcase purely optimistic lyrics; the rest of the songs are more complex, like the ballads You Still Believe In Me and I’m Waiting For The Day. Without exaggeration, this is the saddest happy record I have ever heard.
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When all is said and done, The Beach Boys haven’t made too extravagant a statement. None of the songs last much longer than three minutes, nor is there any experimental tinkering in the studio (not to discount the round-about process Wilson used to actually record the album). They simply made a pop record with lush orchestration and wonderful songs. But, it was (and remains) the Greatest Pop Record.