The Beach Boys - 'That's Why God Made the Radio'

True, this is the first record from Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys in over 16 years, but their music has remained undiminished and has experienced something of resurgence in popularity of late. Last year saw The Smile Sessions released after four decades in the vaults; Brian Wilson’s unfinished masterwork was lapped up by an eager public and the ever-discerning music press. Their sunny-side-up harmonies are indulged by everyone from Fleet Foxes to Belle and Sebastiane and the Sleepy Jackson, while their ambitious, orchestral arrangements reside within just about any knob-twiddling producer you could name.

That’s Why God Made the Radio has the trademarks all present and correct. 12 tracks of gleaming, irony-free melodies that could easily have you believe the last four decades never happened. Of course, those who have followed Brian Wilson’s career will be very much aware of the singer’s personal woes, but to elucidate for those unaware, the man’s dark side is caught in a tug of war, rearing its head once more on this release. Father time is a shadowy presence on this record, and so Mike Love’s namesake optimism is at loggerheads with Wilson’s bleaker grandiosities. That said, we have managed to escape unscathed from a repetition of '...Reimagines Gershwin' - a venture as breath-taking as it was impenetrable.
As for the material itself, the wordless opening salvo moves into focus like a church service, gathering the congregation before bleeding into the title track. The harmonies are righteous, infectious, and perfectly fitting lyrics such as ‘cruising at 7/push button heaven’, soaring over an insistent staccato rhythm, the guitars are light and breezy and the horns and squeezebox punctuate things nicely. The a cappella middle section is gloriously uplifting, and the sudden dynamic shift allows the insistent chorus line to elevate the song until its fade-out. With old muckers Jeffrey Foskett and Bruce Johnston, as well as veteran colleague David Marks on board, Wilson, Love and Al Jardine have seldom sounded this unified.

‘Isn’t it Time’ jigs along to ‘I Get Around’s percussion, the love-struck bop is emphatic of the record’s entire first half – backward-looking, but nonetheless reflective, perhaps best illustrated in the rye-humoured ‘easy money/ain’t life funny’ in ‘Spring Vacation’. Wilson’s presence is felt much more on the album's second half. In the days of vinyl this would have come as less of a shock – when side one finished, the listener can reflect, make a cup of tea, readjust and turn-over before continuing – but on CD or download, it comes upon the ears rather abruptly. Two songs in particular deal with the themes mentioned above. First, ‘Strange World’ is a bleak weather forecast, Wilson struggling to grasp the reins in an ever-changing environment. ‘Pacific Coast Highway’ is every bit as salmon-skied as its title suggests, yet again echoes the ‘coming to the end of the track’ sentiments only brought about by that thing my parents like to call ‘life experience’. Lilting visions ‘sunlight is fading and there’s not much left to say come hand-in-hand with a chilling evening breeze - ‘I’m better off alone’, conscious without being rueful.

The passage of time – and his cruel sibling, age – permeate this record like the two fired band mates who just refuse to leave, but with this inward focus emerges a reinvigorated band still bursting with ideas, harmonies and of course, the odd pop gem just for good measure. The Beach Boys continue to occupy that most coveted of positions in the ephemeral world of music. They have vintage without the burden of nostalgia, while seamlessly retaining popularity and relevance in the rapidity of the 21st century; a land of Toyota Priuses, iPhones, and structural uncertainty.

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