Pitchfork

Let's do this. It's the summertime, and we're coming off of a decade-long re-evaluation of the Beach Boys' legacy. It just doesn't stop. If you thought it began and ended with Pet Sounds, keep thinking, buddy. The long out-of-print Beach Boys albums of the '70s have finally been salvaged and remastered by Capitol from the dregs of the Reprise/Brother catalog.

Without question, the resurrection of the Beach Boys in a vibrant critical and commercial capacity was a significant retrospective development of music in the '90s. Pet Sounds becomes, now that we think about it, arguably the greatest pop production ever; a box set commemorating the album and the group's legacy are released and uniformly lauded; pop groups everywhere shamelessly draw inspiration from the acid-tinged barbershop quartet arrangements; a handicapped Brian Wilson even manages to release something of a comeback. With this extensive overhaul, it's right to expect some chafe only zealots with fat wallets could feel compelled to purchase. But such is not the case with this particular release, which pairs up the two first and best artifacts of the slow, golden sunset of the Beach Boys' decline.

Sunflower marked a fresh start for the band as they left Capitol and established their own label with Reprise, eager to capitalize on the arrangement and recapture an audience that had deserted them. Perhaps the strongest album they released post-Pet Sounds, the group dynamic (no longer as Brian Wilson-focused) reinvigorated the production and songwriting remarkably. The thematic and lyrical content is suitably eccentric and cheesy at times, but that element is as much a part of the work of the Beach Boys as musical innovation.

Dennis Wilson demonstrates impressive songwriting range from rockers "Slip On Through" and "It's About Time" to beaut-ballad "Forever" and the oddity "Got to Know the Woman," where his lasciviousness gets a bit unruly. Brian Wilson hadn't become completely marginalized at this point, however. He still makes most of the songwriting contributions here, standouts of which are the proto-shoegazer "All I Wanna Do," the driving "This Whole World," and "Add Some Music to Your Day," which manages to sound nothing like Fugazi but whose sentiment is the most punk-rock the group recorded. But despite Sunflower's merits and critical acclaim, it was not a financial success, which didn't bode well as the inauguration of the Beach Boys' brand new era.

Some say out of strife and tension comes the best music, and while this doesn't apply to the band's follow-up, Surf's Up, at least it can be said that they got one last good record in there before they really started sucking. Surf's Up's cover art says all that needs to be said about the mood: painted in mournful blues and greens, a Don Quixote-like figure slouches heavily on an emaciated horse. Underscoring the irony of the title, Endless Summer this is not. The most interesting moments of musical texture are provided by an occasional use of synthesizers. Content-wise, the album ostensibly addresses pressing environmental, social and health concerns, but songs like "Don't Go Near the Water" and "Lookin' at Tomorrow (A Welfare Song)" are as much a reflection upon the group's fortunes as they are upon the world's.

Most touching about the album is Brian Wilson's suite-like three-song contribution as the album's closing, clearly influenced by Paul McCartney's suite on Abbey Road. By now truly marginalized, the first two tracks document his resignation to fall away. "A Day in the Life of a Tree" opens with the lines, "Feel the wind burn through my skin/ The pain, the air is killing me," and on the organ driven "Til I Die," he laments being "a cork on the ocean/ Floating over the raging sea." The magnificent title cut closes the album, a track salvaged from the legendary aborted Smile sessions. "Surf's Up" was intended as the "A Day in the Life" of the classic album that wasn't, and here it shines through in all its glory, from Van Dyke Parks' skewed lyricism to the celestial "child is father to the man" coda. It's likely to be the best reissued track you hear all year.