Fear of Music

Surely the whole 'lost album' thing in music comes across as a bit cliched, especially in this whole new age of technology which means that anyone with a £2 cable from Maplins can rip their rare vinyl onto the Internet. This is a mixed blessing, in a way. For one, it means that mere mortals can hear what was once the sole preserve of who work in record shops or trawl car boot sales. In the case of certain 'lost' albums like 'SMiLE', by The Beach Boys (Ignoring that Brian Wilson himself resurrected it spectacularly in 2004), it means that it can reach new people and finally get some recognition for it's true quality. In other cases, who wants to hear 'Dylan', a cobbled together knock-off from the ultimate cobbled together knock-off record, 'Self Portrait'? Some records get lost for a reason.

With a quick google search , i managed to find both the above albums. But i never found Pacific Ocean Blue.

For those who don't know the story, it goes something like this. Dennis Wilson, the middle child between the angelic voice of Carl and pop genius Brian, was originally made the drummer of The Beach Boys because it was the only instrument left. The only one who could surf, it was his idea to write about it, which gave them huge success. However, he and the rest of the group were quickly replaced by session musicians in the studio by Brian, who was the undisputed mastermind behind their mid 60's output, culminating in Pet Sounds.

After the SMiLE! sessions, and Brian's resultant breakdown, other band members began contributing to a series of increasingly poor albums, the high points of all of them being the exhumed parts of SMiLE. Dennis made his own efforts, most notable being 'Forever' off 1970's 'Sunflower', which Brian himself described as 'a love letter to harmony'.



But, he also wrote a song with Charles Manson. They can't all be winners, can they?

Dennis continued much in the same vein, writing the occasional tune which quickly got lobbed onto shite Beach Boys LP's, and stockpiling what many observers call 'absolute tunes' which deserved to be released somewhere. And so in 1977, Dennis signed a solo contract, and within the year there was Pacific Ocean Blue.



It's the Beach Boy, Jim, but not as we know him.

It's simply jaw-dropping, really. The first song, River Song, is this huge gospel-driven soul stomper which sounds a million miles away from anything Brian would write, and it gets better. There's swampy funk, soaring ballads and tender love songs played with incredible deftness and real soul.

Perhaps it's helped by the fact that, all in all, it doesn't really sound like The Beach Boys. Whereas older brother Brian's uneventful solo career has been constantly compared with Pet Sounds, it has always been found wanting because thats Brian's sound. This is not really in the same ballpark, however. Dennis' songs have more in common musically with the soft rock of the time (no, wait, come back...) but the main features are his beautiful lyrics and piano, and really subtlely applied orchestration, which works in one tear-jerking whole. Just listen to 'Thoughts Of You' and try not to weep.



Here in 2008 (2009?), it sounds eerily timeless. Despite the fact that punk had reared it's head over on the other side of the world, with it's promise to kill music like the Wilsons, and that Mike Love and the increasing desperation of the bands attempts to make money were doing a fine job of sending The Beach Boys into oldies hell (much to Dennis' anger) the mood here is one of overwhelming calm and melancholy.
Cruelly for a work of such personal resonance, it was record company bureaucracy that prevented a reprint of the only CD issue of Pacific Ocean Blue, in 1991, well after vinyls had stopped being pressed. Thnakfully, now we get this reissue, with a truly awe-inspiring collection of tracks from his unfinished follow-up, Bambu. It all adds to Pacific Ocean Blue: A truly beautiful, personal record that we should be glad has seen the light of day.


A cracking article with more about Dennis from The Grauniad

Look! Dennis Wilson on Youtube, Wikipedia, Last.FM, Elbo.ws and The Hype Machine. He gets about, doesn't he?

Buy Pacific Ocean Blue on Amazon, or just steal it off the internet if you're tight like that. Don't tell Beck though...

A little background for you: Anne Lilia Berge Strand, born 1978 in Norway, hooks up Tore Andreas Kroknes in and releases the amazing Madonna sampling Greatest Hit in 1999. Plans are made for an album, but Kroknes dies due to a heart condition, aged 23. In 2003, she meets Richard X, who goes on to produce some of her debut album Anniemal. The two singles (Chewing Gum and Heartbeat) make a bigger impact on the Hype Machine than they do on the charts, and Annie is left without a record deal. Cut to 2007, and she's signed with Island Records, working with Xenomania and looks set to become the superstar she should have been years and years ago. Except at the end of 2008, there's been no album release, only one (flop) single and Annie once again has no record deal. If Ken Loach ever wants to move into pop biopics, he could do far worse than covering the last decade of Annie's life.


It's far too easy to find people to blame for Don't Stop's failure. You could say it's the fault of Island, who never really promoted her enough. It's not though, we learned from Dragonette that you can have adverts on music channels every fifteen minutes but without radio airplay, they're worth precisely bugger all. Or blame Higgins and Xenomania for not writing Annie the hit she deserved. Or Girls Aloud, who stopped My Love Is Better from being a duet (Cheryl Cole's presence can get an absolutely dreadful song into the top 10, imagine what the whole band and a four star single could have done for it's chart placing), but ultimately they're not on the same label, it's not a charity single and it certainly isn't Fascination's job to stop other record company's album campaigns going tits up. As sad as it is, sometimes things just don't work out, and pointing the finger at all in sundry just because something doesn't happen the way it should have done will only end up leaving you with very tired arms.


Anyway, Annie's back in the studio, making new tracks for the version of Don't Stop that will come out on Richard X's label next year. Perhaps this time next year, when the record's gone triple platinum, we'll look back and laugh. Honestly, it's a good thing that she's taking her time and making the best album she can, because at the moment, Don't Stop is a lacklustre follow up to one of the best debuts of the decade.


My Love Is Better starts things off promisingly, sounding like the best track Girls Aloud haven't released yet. Alex Kapranos is on guitar, proving at least one good thing came out Franz Ferdinand's failed Xenomania sessions . I Know Ur Girlfriend Hates Me is still far too close to Chewing Gum, but if there's one thing that there's not enough of in modern pop music, it's ice cream van sound effects, so it's nice to see Richard X trying to rectify that. Sweet is where you begin to suspect that Annie working with Xenomania may not have brought out the best in either of them. There's all the hallmarks of great Xenomania tracks, but Higgins and co. sound like they're just on autopilot and manage to forget that Annie doesn't have the pipes of someone like Nadine Coyle. Loco could have been a What Will The Neighbours Say b-side, and gone on to become a fan favourite. In 2008, when the Aloud are making six minute dance tracks about robots, a chorus with the lyrics "you're so loco, everyone says that you're a no-go" isn't going to pass muster.


Elsewhere, Bad Times sounds lovely, but does nothing that Ace Reject didn't do a million times more effectively, Can't Let Go spends so much time defying gender stereotypes that it forgets to include anything approaching a melody and as admirable as it is that Annie wanted to have a power ballad (When The Night) on the album, power ballads in 2008 should sound like No Air and under no circumstances should they feature pan pipes. If it sounds like I'm being too hard on what is realistically one of the best mainstream pop records of the year, it's only because Xenomania have been bringing their A-game to a whole load of tracks this year, so hearing Annie trill her way through nonsense like Heaven and Hell, one can't help but feel disappointed.


When Don't Stop does work, it works fantastically. Marie Cherie is the only song this year you could describe as being '60's inspired' without talking about something by a Winehouse clone, Take You Home sounds like Heartbeat's alcoholic cousin, an sad, atmospheric come-down that winds up being more human than most of the ballads the album has to offer. However, the rest of the record is eclipsed by the final track, Songs Remind Me Of You. If there's any justice, and if Richard X has any sense (he co-wrote the damn thing, so hopefully he should do), this could be Annie's breakout hit. Robyn's proven it's possible to have a number one single independently, as long as it can work it's way into the clubs, and onto the Radio 1 playlist. Until then, let's hope that Annie can make an album that's a worthy succesor to Anniemal. Not just a few great tracks and whatever hooks Xenomania have lying around.