In the 1970s, the primary songwriter of the Beach Boys, Brian Wilson, retreated into isolation due to substance abuse and mental health issues after the death of his father and the band hitting its peak in the ‘60s, having multiple scrapped albums and struggling to stay relevant in an ever-changing musical landscape.
In 1974, the band released a greatest hits album that brought them back into the limelight, and Brian embarked upon the creation of his most ambitious work in years. After a therapeutic intervention, Brian got back to writing and performing with the Beach Boys. From 1976 to 1977, Brian spent much solitary time in the recording studio– writing what would become The Beach Boys’ 1977 album, “Love You.”
According to a 1976 interview, the album was originally conceived as a solo project, as he wrote and composed nearly all of the songs and played most of the instruments, but Brian decided to let it be released as a Beach Boys record to avoid arguments within the group. Some contributions, like multiple lead vocals and the album’s mix, were made by his brothers and fellow bandmates, Carl and Dennis Wilson. The remaining two members, Al Jardine and Mike Love, were rarely in the studio, but they provided vocals on a few tracks like “Honkin’ Down the Highway” and “Love Is a Woman.”
The album is a marked change in sound for the group, as most of the instrumentation is completely done with synthesizers, specifically Minimoogs and ARP brand synths, a distinct departure from Brian’s other acoustic arrangements and the rest of The Beach Boys’ discography.
The record had two distinct tones that were separated by the album’s sides. Side A sounded like a strange, alternate-universe version of a Beach Boys’ greatest hits album. In contrast, side B is much slower and is filled with introspective songs, partially inspired by Brian’s experiences in his mid-30s.
The propulsive opener, “Let Us Go On This Way,” is a grand opening statement. With its pulsing synth bass line and Carl’s energetic vocals, contrasted with brief bursts of the Beach Boys’ iconic harmonies, it set the pace for the first side of the record.
The Dennis-led song, “Mona,” was a highlight and perfectly encapsulated the album’s magic. Dennis raspingly sings about all the romantic outings he envisioned for himself and the titular Mona, including a specific call out to Brian’s early musical obsession with some of Phil Spector’s work:
“Come on / Listen to ‘Da Doo Ron Ron’ now / Listen to it, ‘Be My Baby’ / I know you’re gonna love Phil Spector.”
The song “Johnny Carson” is a strange and sweet love letter to the legendary late-night host and comedian, which describes the figure with a boyish admiration only conjurable by Brian.
The final song of side A, “Ding Dang,” is a one-minute nonsense song that consists primarily of two words, “ding” and “dang.” The Byrds’ Roger McGuinn co-wrote it, but whether he provided the “ding” or the “dang” is unknown.
Side B starts with the song “Solar System,” a stream-of-consciousness filled with a child-like wonder about the stars in the sky, while the next song, “The Night Was So Young,” is a ballad straight off their 1966 album– “Pet Sounds.” Written about Brian’s extramarital affair, it laments the loneliness of lost love and wishes his relationship could go back to the way it was before.
Other high points include “I Bet He’s Nice,” a love song with crunchy synth sounds, a stark contrast to the rest of the album, where the synthesizers were used to sound like instruments, and “Airplane,” which is a sweet song about someone anxiously waiting for their plane to land so they can meet their significant other at the airport.
The album is a joy, through and through. The contrast between the electronic instrumentation and the nostalgic simplicity of the lyrics endows the album with a strange and almost post-modern quality. The record also featured some genuinely heartfelt moments that fully translated, specifically “The Night Was So Young,” and had some of Brian’s finest arrangements since “Pet Sounds.”
The album is far from perfect; at times, it can feel a little one-noted. Some of the lyrics, while probably well-intentioned and coming from an innocent enough place, can come off a little creepy, like in “Roller Skating Child:”
“Well, she’s a roller skating child / With a ribbon in her hair / She gets my heart beating / When I see her there… And we’ll make sweet lovin’ when the sun goes down / We’ll do even more when your mama’s not around.”
The lyrics are typical of the early-to-mid 1960s pop music Brian’s writing channels, but given the notably coarse and middle-aged vocals, it can be a little off-putting.
When the album was released, the critical reception was almost unanimously positive, but popular opinion was divided. Some embraced and adored the album’s eccentricities, and others felt it was childish nonsense, leading to disappointing sales.
One defender of the album was the godmother of punk, Patti Smith. In her review, submitted to Hit Parader, which takes the form of a poem and is worth reading in full, Smith defended the album and perfectly articulated what made it special.
“But what got the best of Brian Wilson? Image, man, and music seem frozen forever within the light, bubbly aura of a birthday party,” Smith writes. “Love you. I believe he does. I believe they do. I don’t live it, but I believe it. You’re either into it or not.”
It’s now considered a cult classic among fans, and many refer to it as the Beach Boys’ synth-pop or punk album. While the album itself doesn’t bear enough resemblance to either of those genres to be labeled as such, it is definitely the closest thing to a synth-pop album you would ever get from Brian Wilson, and it is absolutely worth giving a listen if you haven’t already.
