It's become increasingly apparent to me over the past couple of years that the Beach Boys are a significant influence upon approximately 58% of today's indie rock bands. Yeah, maybe this should've been obvious to me a lot earlier. But bear in mind that my formative Beach Boys experiences were a 1986 concert by the dreadful "Kokomo"-era Mike Love incarnation I saw with my parents, and that "Full House" episode where John Stamos filled in on drums. Horrifying.
Even in my recent enlightened state, I'm still surprised at the ubiquity of the Brian Wilson Sound, given that it only produced one album unanimously considered to be a masterpiece. Perhaps the Beach Boys continually open peoples' eyes to a variety of elements: the un-ironic falsetto vocal, the joy of nonsense-syllable lyrics (e.g. ba-ba-ba's and dooby-doo's), the tasteful blending-in of orchestral instruments, and the use of crystalline harmonies. Or maybe today's indie rock horde saw themselves as responsible for fulfilling the potential lost when Wilson surrendered to his insanity and his bed during the Smile sessions.
To pigeon-hole AM/FM as yet another Beach Boys homage would be overly simplistic-- the band seems less directly inspired by Wilson & Co. than by bands who are themselves inspired by the Beach Boys-- not to mention Nick Drake and his legions of clinically depressed devotees, or more contemporary artists like the Coctails and Death Cab for Cutie. All of the above can be heard in the sonic casserole of Getting into Sinking, to various degrees.
But still, it's the Beach Boys thing that I can't get out of my head, and I think it's caused by more than the duo's frolicking-through-sand-and-surf cover art. Brian Sokel and Michael Parsell have a knack for dreaming up melodies that sound familiar without sounding derivative, then tactfully using a wide arsenal of instruments to flesh out their vision. And it's all packaged up with the optimism and pep of a pre-manic depression, pinstripe suit-wearing Brian Wilson.
Getting into Sinking bursts out of the gate with the anthemic "Virgins! Virgins!" and "If We Burned All the Assholes the Earth Would Look Like the Sun," two songs with titles more appropriate for a Slipknot album, but harboring content that glitters with pop sensibility. The former combines lovestruck backing vocals, reverb-drenched guitar, and lazy drums into a package so smiley-faced I can (barely) forgive lyrics like, "There are so many songs about rainbows/ But what's on the other side?" "If We Burned" has a similar flair, carrying a hook like a pirate-ship captain, and working up a joyous cacophony by throwing in the some Elephant Six circus-style horns.
The album never again reaches the heights of these opening tracks, but bounces enjoyably between sunshine daydreams and AM/FM getting their Garfunkel on: a fairly straight reading of Leonard Cohen's "Hey, That's No Way to Say Goodbye" and the coffee-shop folk of "I Was Never Here Two Seconds Ago." Missteps come from the exceptions to this formula, like "It Fell Out of My Head," where the programmed percussion, repetitive guitar riff, and jarring chants sound like a less feminist and less catchy Le Tigre. "Come Suck Down a Cloud" attempts to build to a choir-fueled climax, but seems flat and forced compared to the album's simpler tunes.
Getting into Sinking comes off like an album engineered for springtime, where the increasing temperatures and longer daytimes make even the hardest heart vulnerable to a innocently catchy song's viral attack. The dozen tracks within may not be the most memorable or groundbreaking ever recorded, but AM/FM's cheeriness is contagious enough to inspire nationwide Frisbee-throwing. Somewhere, Brian Wilson tips his fireman's hat.
