Maybe it’s cruel and unusual punishment given that we’ve all been staying at home for like eight thousand million days, or maybe it’s a welcome thought trip, but this week we bring the music of summer, the music of movement, the music of man versus wave. That’s right… it’s time to talk
surf music
.
Image:
Nostalgic Central
Ok. We know what you’re thinking: how square, man. Yeah, yeah. These days people probably don’t think it’s all that cool. For the vast majority of you kids (especially those who don’t live anywhere near the sunny beaches of Southern California), it probably evokes images of Boomers in Hawaiian shirts, sitting in lawn chairs at car shows.
Image:
Mel Magazine
Which brings us to our first and fundamentally important point of distinction. Just like waiting for the ideal conditions and the perfect wave, we’re taking a purist approach to surf music:
it doesn’t have vocals
. So save your Boomer derision (or your deep and abiding love for the Beach Boys) until next time, when we look at what happens when you write surf-inspired songs about girls and cars.
Hot Rod Surf Pop
is not just one of our nicknames for the foreseeable future, but it’s also it’s a very different beast from what we are talking about today.
And lest you think that surf music died the same year Dad (or Granddad, yikes, cuz we don’t know how old you are) got his first job after college, we’ll also eventually be taking a look at the revival that started in the ‘90s and is still going.
Ok. Caveats and clarifications complete. Time to bust out the sunscreen and tequila (and, if you’re Australian, some super glue for that cut above your eye). And just ride the wave. Because, make no mistake,
surf music is all about surfing.
The sand, the salt air, the sun on your skin, and the waves. Always, first, the waves.
The best examples of the genre are those that evoke the anticipation, the triumph, the crashing disappointment of surfing … and the eternal optimism it takes to keep at it. Take one of the most widely recognizable examples, Dick Dale’s
Miserlou
:
There isn’t a single thing this song is about other than
catching a huge fucking wave
. Nothing.
The bass notes evoke the anticipation, the rising of the waves. The drums embody the danger of it all, the frenzy of the waves crashing all around. Then the treble guitar kicks in — the surfer on the wave … but … for how long? You hold your breath. Your pulse quickens. The horns kick in and add to the danger — surfer as matador, waves as the bull. It’s all so precarious and temporary and … addictive. So it starts all over again.
THIS IS SURF MUSIC.
If you needed any further proof that it’s all about the evocative nature of the instruments and the notes, just listen to maybe the most famous of all surf rock songs, the Surfari’s
Wipe Out
:
This is a perfect example of “surf beat” drums. So much so that — as iconic as it has become — that initial “wipe out” at the beginning is really overkill. The drums perfectly build the tension and excitement; you start to get an idea of what’s happening. Then, if you weren’t sure already, the moment that cymbal crashes, well … you know
exactly
what this song is about.
So, now that you love and appreciate surf music in a way you didn’t know possible, a few little factoids.
While today it seems rather benign as a genre (like Yacht Rock’s cooler younger brother from mom’s second marriage), at the time (1961 - 1965ish), this music was kind of revolutionary; even a little bit dangerous. After all, it was only 1958 when Link Wray’s
Rumble
was
banned from the radio
because people thought it would incite violence.
And while
Rumble
lacks the speed and frenetic energy of most surf rock, all the elements are there, and would later become ingrained in surf music.
Rumble
is like a slow-mo shot of a surfer in the barrel, the wave breaking just behind him.
It was also around this time that American music was really starting to be influenced by super guitar-heavy Latin American music (as well as the music of Polynesia, Jamaica, etc.). Dick Dale himself actually drew heavily on his Lebanese background, and part of what made his sound – and the sound of surf music – so distinct was the incorporation of non-Western influences. (Scroll back up and give
Miserlou
another listen now: Middle East meets Mariachi meets the surf.) For a subtle example, take
Penetration
by The Pyramids (which also holds honor as being the last instrumental surf song to make the Billboard Hot 100):
Also happening at this moment in history were crazy advancements in guitars and what sounds they could make when amplified, including — say it with me, cuz it’s another hallmark of surf music —
reverb
. It’s the perfect effect for surf music. It’s all about persistence and reflections, like the waves of the ocean themselves. It also often gave surf music that somewhat menacing and eerie quality.
Take
Pipeline
, by the Chantays. Rather than the heat of the midday sun, this is a different kind of danger. This is surfing too close to the rocks under a full moon to impress the boys and girls you’d never take home to the parents.
Did you notice how we haven’t even talked about the Beach Boys? We know you’re all afraid of seeming lame for liking them, but they did make one of the most perfect albums of all time, soooo. And, kitschy hot rod surf pop aside, their sound was firmly rooted in traditional surf music:
Ok. Ok. We’ll stop now. Wait. We lied. One more thing: if you still think surf music is decidedly uncool, you should appreciate the fact that it has heavily influenced countless modern genres, from garage to psychobilly to punk … so you’ve probably been subliminally enjoying it all this time and just never knew it.
Ok. Now time for a margarita(s).
Tasting Notes:
1. Instrumental
2. Deeply evocative of summer and the surf
3. Heavy use of reverb
4. Long guitar slides
5. Tremelo picking
6. Often employs non-western influences/scales
7. Cymbal-heavy, “surf beat” drumming