#beachboys

[caephalopodas]

beachboys outing + leeching off of the holden household, like always

[hairytwosome]

[stationlvl7]

ok so, i got the big ass beach boys book that's in their own words, and.. oh my heart 😭🥹

[petsoundspizza]

[nemmet]

🎶❤️ my part of a stardew art trade i did with my good buddy @sonicsbigmassivepersonality!!

this is his delightful farmer noodle & his beloved wife elliott, enjoying a passionate spur-of-the-moment dance together 🤭

[longliverockback]

The Beach Boys 1985 Brother ——————————————————————— Tracks: 01. Getcha Back 02. It’s Gettin’ Late 03. Crack at Your Love 04. Maybe I Don’t Know 05. She Believes in Love Again 06. California Calling 07. Passing Friend 08. I’m So Lonely 09. Where I Belong 10. I Do Love You 11. It’s Just a Matter of Time ———————————————————————

Al Jardine

Bruce Johnston

Mike Love

Brian Wilson

Carl Wilson

Dennis Wilson

* Long Live Rock Archive

[djrodeoheck]

[dustedmagazine]

Jared Leibowich — Secret Spells (Bruit Direct Disques)

Jared Leibowich’s songs sound much larger than bedroom pop, with their massed vocals and clanging, chiming guitars. The songwriter, who got his start with Austin bands including the Zoltars and the Infinites, has made an expansive, ebullient solo album here, meriting comparisons to the Papercuts, White Fence and Peel Dream Magazine and, even, once or twice, the Beach Boys in its full multi-tracked, multi-vocaled glory.

Consider, for instance, “Can I Hear Your Story?” a sugar rush of criss-crossing vocals and gauzily irresistible hook. Around Leibowich’s main vocal melody, a chorus of overdubbed descants swirl, filling out the space, as drums pound and guitars exult. It’s such a good song, and so very different from the guy-on-stool-with-guitar-moaning-about-his-love-life standard that solo, self-recorded pop often adheres to.

These are not, in general, confessional songs. The palette is much larger than Leibowich’s personal experiences; it explores imaginative visions that are not quite real. For instance, “Without Fail,” which opens the second side, is a third-person story song about a dangerous pied piper sort of performer. He captures his audience with words and doesn’t let them go. It billows and masses and lilts in soft-focus hookiness, very much in line with Jason Quever’s best work with Papercuts.

A few of the songs rock out a little harder, shaped by sharper guitars and rowdier drums. “Don’t You Fall Down” is one of these, a jagged garage pop gem that punches as hard as it daydreams.

It’s always difficult to put a finger on exactly what makes one album of guitar pop better than another, but this is a good one, eccentric and wistfully pretty and not at all limited by the format. Leibowich is thinking in larger terms — of choirs and orchestras and baroque poetry — and making that stuff out of what’s at hand.

Jennifer Kelly