Your favorite band probably isn’t going to be relevant in 40 years. And that’s not accosting your good taste (you’re here, aren’t you?); that’s just the nature of art and music. World views shift, styles morph unrecognizably, society has new demands and ever-changing priorities. And yet, with their magnum opus, The Beach Boys crafted a time-honored testament to life and love, a sophisticated album of genre-synthesizing beauty. Few compare, and few are so well remembered.
To celebrate the album’s 40th Anniversary, Capitol is reissuing the record in a CD/DVD digipak and a limited edition, deluxe, double colored vinyl package. This edition is limited to 10,000 numbered copies worldwide, and Stereogum’s got 3 shrinkwrapped copies of the double vinyl to give away. Our copies are all numbered under 100 (if that means they’re more special or something … we’re not sure).

To enter, post in the comments refuting this claim from Stereogum reader John on our last Pet Sounds post:
There is nothing particularly advanced about its use of song form (variations of eight-bar phrases, choruses, bridges, etc.) or tonal pallette (as if using a harp and an accordion is some kind of stroke of genius). Its use of meter and rhythmic emphasis is purely conventional and, though there are numerous pretty melodies, pretty melodies have been around since the middle ages. I suppose an argument could be made that it represents some sort of advance in recording-studio technique… But for the most part I don’t think there is an objective, musical reason why we like this record.
Winners will be chosen randomly. We just want to hear you say nice things about one of our favorite albums. Contest ends Wednesday 9/20 at 6 PM EST. Good luck!
And remember to check in on the free Pet Sounds Podcast series, featuring all-new interviews with the Beach Boys about every track on the album! We just watched the video on the overview of the record, with the Boys’ commentary set to awesome still shots of them and pre-trauma, moptop Brian. An afficiondo’s must. One of our favorite nuggets comes from Mike Love’s retelling of the album’s naming:
Brian didn’t know what to call the album. We played the album back in its entirety in the studio … I was … listening back, like everyone else … and here comes a dog barking and a train passing, as a sound on the album. I said, “Huh. Well, it’s a dog. Why don’t we call it Pet Sounds?!” Which is a double entendre. It means “our favorite sounds,” as well as it means a dog barking! (laughs) Brian said, “Yeah, that’s cool!”
Grab the rest of the overview here:
Pet Sounds Overview (Audio) (MP3)
Pet Sounds Overview (Video) (Video)
Full of fun facts so you can kick ass at your next Rock ‘N’ Roll Trivia night.










































Objective standards mean nothing in music. It is and should remain a purely subjective art form. If I like it, that’s all that matters to me.
As John says he likes Pet Sounds in the original thread, I’ll try to be somewhat polite in addressing his claims (such as they are) about the album’s musical quality.
One of his main claims in the prior thread is that rock and roll relies almost entirely on subjectivity. That’s a nice position to have, as it allows him to equate musical quality with what he likes.
However, in the portion quoted in this thread John undoes his own position, for in that excerpt — and elsewhere in his prior comments — he suggests that there are in fact objective criteria by which one might objectively judge the music. He specifically mentions song form, tonal palette, use of meter and rhythmic emphasis, and melody.
John is a bit slippery with his language, though. The portion quoted here uses the term “advanced,” whereas in the prior thread he retreats to “innovative,” comparing the music of Pet Sounds to the entirety of musical history and ignoring that one can innovate in a genre of music by importing elements of other genres — truly ironic given that rock is itself an amalgam of styles. John might respond that this only proves his argument that rock is built on subjectivity and self-identification, but this is incorrect. No one would seriously argue, for example, that there is no “objective” reason to like Beethoven because he used particular chords or drew upon the history of music that came before him. No one would seriously argue that Mozart is no big deal because he used musical idioms of the day and did not invent musique concrete. It’s simply a non-sequitur to suggest that we should only “objectively” like music that is “innovative.” To the contrary, the history of music is evolutionary, not revolutionary. The vast majority of people do not like innovators such as John Cage or Glenn Branca, objectively or otherwise.
So let’s turn to the specifics of John’s claims.
In the prior thread, John stated the following:
“But to say that no other band’s vocal harmonies were as “thick” as the Beach Boys’ is meaningless (what does “thick” mean?). More to the point, it’s arbitrary. If you were to argue that the chord voicings were more sophisticated, that would potentially be a measureable standard. We could determine what chords were used by each band, in what order and arrangement, and then form an argument that the Beach Boys used better chords, in distinctive progressions, with more challenging intervals than those used by the Beatles or the Zombies.
But as far as I know, no one has sufficiently developed such an argument (or if it’s even possible to make it — given that we may not have reliable sheet music of Wilson’s or Lennon/McCartney’s vocal arrangements). Nor do I believe many listeners would want to *hear* such an argument…”
John would certainly not want to hear it, but if he stops by, he’s about to read it. Did the Beach Boys use more sophisticated vocal arangements than The Beatles? Absolutely. But John doesn’t have to take my word for it. Sir George Martin — who arranged the Beatles’ orchestrations and thus knows exactly how complex they were — is on record repeatedly on this point, but one here’s just one frequently-quoted remark: “Brian Wilson is… a living genius of pop music. His invention and creativity reached a level that I always found staggering… His art is that magical combination of really original compositions, a wonderful sense of instrumental color, and a profound understanding of record production.” Martin would also tell you that, for example, “Here, There, and Everywhere” (a truly wonderful song Paul McCartney wrote at the time of Pet Sounds) uses simple triads of block harmony, whereas even the little scat break in “God Only Knows” is filled with incidental sevenths and ninths that the Fabs never attempted. This is what makes the vocal harmonies “thick.” John should check out the segment where Martin interviews Brian Wilson about Pet Sounds on the 40th anniversary DVD; he might learn something.
Similarly, Paul McCartney, while not a technically trained musician, has often said that the bass playing on Pet Sounds profoundly affected his own bass playing. The album introduced counterpoint in the bass which was innovative for pop music, though I concede not for the entirety of human musical history.
John seems to think Pet Sounds, like most pop music of the time, used variations of 8-bar phrases. Most pop verses tend to be 8, 12 or 16 bars long.
On “I Know There’s An Answer,” Brian splits the verse into two parts; one in 8 bars, the other 6, creating a 14 bar verse. Good luck finding many songs with 14-bar verses.
On “Here Today,” the verses are 20 bars long. Each verse is split into three sections of 8, 7 and 5 bars. If John can name any other well-known song with that structure, I’ll write him a check for 50 dollars. The break in “Here Today” is also 20 bars, split into 8, 6 and 6. The kicker? The choruses are 7 bars, not the expected 8, which reinforces the lyric “It’s gone so fast.”
And on “God Only Knows,” Brian lops the last measure off the second chorus going into the staccato instrumental bit. He does the same to the third chorus, modulated up 5 semitones.
Both play directly against the listener’s expectation created by a continuous harmonic rhythm of four beats per chord.
Nor are these the only remarkable musical features of “God Only Knows.” The introduction is a twist on a traditional hymnal progression — I – ii – I — symbolic of the lyrical theme, but one reason why people have a hard time figuring out the song is written in E. The verse then starts with D, a very “rock” choice, but is followed by B minor — a modal change that is really not stable in the key of E, but well-suited to the lyric, “I may not always love you…”
And that stacatto break leaps out at the listener in part because that’s where the modulation in the song is camoflaged. I know John doesn’t see key changes as “landmark,” but that one is done in a most unusual way.
Brian also used modal changes on “Caroline, No.” And when he sings the title, that’s a G-flat6th with an added ninth which creates a wonderful harmonic ambiguity that again complements the lyric. But, you know, jazz men have done this sort of thing, so who cares?
“Caroline, No,” like “God Only Knows” also plays with the harmonic rhythm, but in a different way — it speeds up when the lyric is about the girl he knew changing. And, in contrast to the lopping of a measure on “God,” he adds one at the end of “Caroline.” Brian doesn’t toy with meter too much in Pet Sounds, but he does mess with the harmonic rhythm often enough — Just ask Tony Asher, who complained about having to get his lyrics to fit the rhythmic changes on several songs.
In addition, there are some odd key choices on the album. “You Still Believe In Me” is written in B, which is relatively unusual; “That’s Not Me” is written in F#, which is even more so. And here I’m not just talking about pop music — keyboard composers avoid B because C is so much easier.
Then there is the tonal palette of the album, which John snarkily dismisses: “(as if using a harp and an accordion is some kind of stroke of genius).” Note how high John is setting the bar here; apparently, he can only “objectively” like music that demonstrates genius in its tonal pallette. Yet I doubt he could find many examples of a composer using not one, but two accordions in the manner Brian did on “Wouldn’t it Be Nice” to simulate violins playing a sustained tremolo.
If John’s looking for unique instrumentation, he have mentioned Brian’s use of the Theremin (actually the Electro-Theremin or “Tannerin”), which I suppose John would disqualify because it was used as a sound effect in a couple of movie soundtracks. Or the bicycle horn and bell at the end of “You Still Believe In Me,” which John probably dismisses as having been used by Spike Jones. On the intro to the same track, instead of a harpsichord, Brian holds down the keys to his piano, while someone else (Tony Asher, iirc) plucks the strings, but maybe John Cage did that first. Or the seldom-used bass harmonica that Paul McCartney cheerfully admits to borrowing as an idea for future Beatle records. Or the water-cooler jug that is played with a mallet on “Caroline, No.”
Completely missing from John’s analysis of tonal palette, of course, is any consideration of the arrangements, which is sort of like criticizing a painter for not inventing new colors, as opposed examining to the painter’s inventive use of color. Not that Brian didn’t invent new musical colors on Pet Sounds; he did, through the doubling of parts by instruments not traditionally used in tandem at the same volume. But even if he had not done this, Brian composed Pet Sounds the way he heard it in his head, to be recorded in a studio. Thus, he paid little heed to conventional groupings of instruments. He did not conduct an orchestra, a big band, or a jazz combo. He might use a string quartet, or sextet, and do moving arrangements, like the passing tones within the diminished chords on “Don’t Talk.” Not that John cares — after all, guys like Brahms and Revel did it long ago. But neither of them would throw in other instruments at will. For example, “Let’s Go Away For Awhile” used a dozen violins, piano, four saxophones, vibes, and a guitar played slide-style with a Coke bottle.
This last point transitions nicely to a consideration of Brian’s use of the recording studio as an instrument itself. John actually gives this point some credit, though at other points in the prior thread he tries to dismiss it as merely the product of advancing technology. Of course, if this were true, you would have many more contemporaneous examples of this, but they don’t exist. Phil Spector may have foreshadowed it, but his “Wall of Sound” was the single approach he used (albeit to stunning effect). In contrast, the arrangements on Pet Sounds vary from the exceedingly lush to the spare, as befits the theme Brian is expressing in each case.
I do agree with John’s belief that many listeners would not want to *hear* such arguments. The fact is that they don’t. I would submit very few people analyze the music of Pet Sounds in the manner I just did, and very little of it consciously leaps out at them when they listen to it. That is also one of the remarkable achievements of the album. It is not only that Brian did all of the above in the context of a pop album, but also that it is nevertheless perceived on its own terms *as* a “pop” or “rock” album, despite Brian’s inclusion of religious, baroque and jazz elements, his imaginitive instrumentation and unique arrangements. That’s due in no small part to those pretty melodies and the synergy they have with the arrangements and the lyrics.
THEY SOUND LIKE A NICER VERSION OF THE EARLY BEE GEES… WHICH IN ITSELF IS NICE.
Actually, its tonal palate and harmonies are quite advanced. You’re fundamentally wrong. No, don’t worry John… it’s okay… just go back to sleep… it’ll all be better in the morning. Don’t talk, put your head on my shoulder. Come close…close your eyes and be still. There there. Night night.
*unzips pants*
John has no idea what he is talking about.
He’s not entirely wrong. Although I do think this album was groundbreaking the US and in a commercial music industry, using these types of instruments “within the confines of Rock ‘n Roll” as some posters have put it, had already been done in much of Europe – with influences from Celtic music (Flutes, Bagpipes), Breton Music (Harp), Basque music (Hand and vocal percussion), the use of North African instruments (Zarb) etc…the same can be said about the use of vocal melodies and harmonies, counterpoint, etc etc. But that said, you can’t deny a record that took a risk in a
Music industry that was so incredibly structured and seemed afraid of the idea that a POP record could go out on an artistic limb. Such risks had more recently been braved by the overtly psychedelic, whose tie-died journeys into LSD’ed musical euphoria was worn so much on their sleeves that anyone would expect to hear 3 minutes of goats and mothers giving birth and not think anything of it. But this was the “Beach Boys” for Christ’s sake! They wore turlenecks and turned the whole music world upside down with an amazing album full of intelligent, interesting, and pop conscious music.
Brian Wilson created Pet Sounds at a time when that music simply was not being made.
Take “Still Believe in Me” for instance. He finds a new way to use the scale. He arranges the vocals so they are always going up, even when it seems that the bass is going down the scale. While going up and down the scale, Brian Wilson found a way to make it sound like the vocals are always reaching to the heavens. On that track he also found a way to get a new sound by plucking the piano strings with his fingers
Throughout the record, he used multiple instruments together to create a new sound. With everything wrapped in the natural reverb, the sounds melt together.
Pop music in that era was not using chords in the same way Brian Wilson was. On “Wouldn’t it be nice,” after the part where the tempo slows he makes the chord change from an F#min7 to a C7 before the outro. That is a very unconventional chord change and in most cases, would sound wrong. However, Brian arranged the vocals so it was just beautifully haunting on the word “happy.” It’s the small things.
On “I just wasn’t made for these times” There is an absolutely beautiful chord change. I think it’s the third cycle through the vocal tag and it only happens once. It just twists your insides and makes you feel that pain he was feeling.
This record has touched more people, spiritually and emotionally, than any other pop record in history. And there’s no way I can do it justice in this little comment box.
Paul McCartney obviously thought it was revolutionary enough… it basically shocked the Beatles right back into the studio so they could complete the Sgt. Peppers sessions.
Pet Sounds is Important vs. Pet Sounds is Brilliant.
Pet Sounds is Important because of it’s historical context (i.e., it was made in response to Rubber Soul, and then it, in turn, inspired Sgt. Pepper.) Popular music benefitted greatly from that trans-atlantic ping pong match.
Pet Sounds is Brilliant because…….it makes my ears smile.
John = stupid. Pet Sounds = masterpiece. Period.
there are countless reasons to go into why pet sounds is an important record. sure, the music is great. sure, the recording techniques were ahead of their time. sure, the beatles were jealous of brian wilson’s talents. but above all… look at that green and gold vinyl! that shit is hot!
random selection for winners, right? well here’s my rambling nonsensical post.
I’m not a musical composition major or anything, but I did take a course entitled “History of Rock and Roll” in college (i’m not kidding), and in one unit was entitled ROCK GODS or something like that, and we learned about the Beatles and Beach Boys. About their constant friendly competition that ultimately led to Brian Wilson’s breadown (and of course ultimately awesome recovery with Smile!).
Well from what I remember from the course, Pet Sounds was relevant because it was innovative. It was the first album to use those “pretty melodies” and force listeners to use a whole new part of their ear, in a metaphoric way. The Beatles had been one-upped! And had to retaliate (by taking a lot more drugs). If the Beatles think its an album for the ages, it is an album for the ages.
Here’s my take on this whole shebang:
There is nothing particularly advanced about John’s use of his human form (walking on two legs, talking with his mouth, hearing with his ears, etc.) or his vocabulary (as if using musical terminology is some kind of stroke of genius). His opinions and thoughts are purely pedantic and, though he makes a few interesting points, interesting points have been around since the middle ages. I suppose an argument could be made that he represents some sort of advanced indie snob revisionist musical opinion… But for the most part I don’t think there is an objective, logical reason for why we should listen to him.
sometimes there’s nothing groundbreaking about beuty, it’s just perfect culmination of everything that came before
what pop music sounded like pet sounds before its release? nothing. What has sounded like it afterwards? a lot.
John is a cunt. He can blow 8 bars on my flesh harmonica.
John is a butthole. I like Pet Sounds. Not buttholes. Stop being a butthole and start liking Pet Sounds. Butthole.
Ha! This is what I get for not checking Stereogum everyday … I’ll only try to clarify my position slightly with regard to Karl’s comments (which, by the way, provide exactly the sort of objective musical analysis that I felt was so conspicuously absent from the discussions of Pet Sounds, as well as most other significant rock records).
Karl notes, correctly, that in my earlier comments I argued that rock and roll relies almost entirely on subjectivity. But I didn’t mean to suggest that rock and roll *should* rely on subjectivity, only that it does — at least in so far as it is understood by most listeners. Most of the comments here bear this out. As Karl implies, an over reliance on subjectivity “allows him [the listener] to equate musical quality with what he likes” — a pervasive and problematic attitude that curtails discussion before it begins. It worries me that so many people say they simply don’t know why they like their favorite records, and I applaud those here who have tried to articulate the reasons they do — it can be a frustrating endeavor, I know.
Given the nature of the occasion, it seems only fair that I too should say some nice things about Pet Sounds, which isn’t my favorite record by any means but one that at various moments I’ve held near and dear. It is often said to be a concept album, but I’ve never appreciated it on this basis. My experience of the record is made up of numerous individual, pleasurable moments: the tympani in “Waiting for the Day,” the repetition of a four-bar phrase at the end of “You Still Believe in Me” that begins with the line “I want to cry,” sung alone, and culminates in a gorgeous group vocal harmony (and — yes — I even like the bike horn that honks during the fade-out: a moment of pedestrian tackiness to undercut the song’s genteel ending), “Wouldn’t it be Nice.” Don’t even get me started on “Wouldn’t it be Nice.”
I like “God Only Knows,” but not as much as “Sloop John B.,” which is brilliant, one of those strange pop songs that doesn’t seem to go anywhere but still winds up somewhere other than where it started.
I never said I didn’t like the record, I only thought it was time to take the discussion on a different tack. So … what do you say? I’ve got an empty turntable just *starving* for some green-and-yellow vinyl.
re: john
yeah, but Sloop John B kicks fucking ass.
re: john
yeah, but Sloop John B kicks fucking ass.
Any album that is able to connect with millions (yes, millions) of listeners on an emotional level like Pet Sounds has done, doesn’t need to defend itself. Art/music’s sucess is subjective. And our millions of positive opinions outweigh your negative one. We win. I for one would like to celebrate by kicking back and listening to Pet Sounds on my turntable. Hmmmmm, vinyl.
there’s no objective, musical reason why we like anything. period.
i really want to win.
Pet Sounds is one of the greatest examples of an artist exposing his soul, bare, for the world to see/hear/experience. For the same reasons I respect John Lennon’s early solo work (some of it quite painful), I really admire hearing Brian Wilson’s complex brain being put to music. Love, fear, fun, encapsulating the mid-1960′s, but not in a dated way. I can understand why the Beatles found “an objective, musical reason” to count this album as an influence. Just listen to the Beach Boys’ “That’s Not Me” and the Beatles’ “She’s Leaving Home” (both on the same theme), and understand why simplicity is genius.
If you need to know why it is a great album, I suggest you find the acapella tracks to Wouldn’t It Be Nice and Sloop John B and give them a listen. I’m not saying that they are the best singers, but nothing gives me chills more consistently in music then when the harmony begins on Wouldn’t It Be Nice.
“Pet Sounds” is the one album that each of my girlfriends actually like, which is really convenient.
If you read the original thread of comments, John comes across as a very reasonable, intelligent, musically thoughtful guy. I think people attacking him personally is retarded. So he has a different opinion than you – that makes him a “douche bag?” Ugh, grow up. Kudos to John for starting a real conversation and debate.
SCOTT, I AGREE WITH YOU THAT JOHN *DEFINATELY* DESERVES ONE OF THE LOVELY VINYL SETS.
This just in:
Pet Sounds? Still awesome.
The harmonization alone, which done by anyone else might make me punch my stereo, is beyond laudable and possibly the best pop concoction ever concocted.
i can’t wait to hear this new album…should be great!
To be honest, I like Odessey an Oracle perhaps a bit more than Pet Sounds, but still I’d like the vinyl. The CD I have is an early mono version from the 90′s that sounds really crappy. Thanks-
I gave away my pet sounds cassette in 1999. It had been dubbed for me by an older sister sometime around 1992 in an attempt to get me to stop listening to Weird Al’s Alapalooza. I didn’t dislike it at the time, but I was ambivalent. It certainly didn’t sound ‘new’ to me, to 6th grade me it sounded like everything you hear in the car when your parents stick the radio on the Classic Rock station and you can change it when you’re old enough to drive. In 1999, a freshman in college, I gave Andrew Neuahuser my pet sounds tape one day when I was telling old technology to screw itself by getting rid of all my cassette tapes. While we sorted the boxs of tapes, separating the Jackson from the Amy Grant, he played that Beach Boys tape. And by end of side A there was this euphoria just hovering in the room. Euphoria that only nostalgia can provide, and not real nostalgia, the good fake stuff, the Happy Days version of your past. There are a few albums that are untouchable in precisely this way, the way Nick Hornby describes in “About a Boy” that the Beatles, to him, were about singing yellow submarine on the bus. It doesn’t matter that the beach boys aren’t special, but they are able to make you believe you remember when you were and your sister made you tapes.
Green-yellow is at the direct middle of the light spectrum visible to the human eye, and as such it is the colour that is most eye catching to humans.
the point of Pet Sounds is its aesthetic; not anything entirely new or innovative in it per se, but as an artistic piece, at the moments when the orchestral flourishes and harmonies combine in Brian’s much loved wall of sound–done here far more heartbreakingly than Specter ever did–the album feels whole, entirely complete in a way even Sgt. Pepper never realizes
i liked the goats. but really only the one who wants to eat the funny beardy man at the back. but they didnt sing songs about the goats. wish the goat had eaten man at back, but mum says goats dont eat people. shame cos it ruined the album for me. it would have really been the best album in the world if the goat had done that but i dont think it is because of the goat. and the funny stary man at the back who is scared of the goat because he thinks it might want to eat him. dad says because there are no goats on the velvet underground album it’s much better but i dont think so. the goat record the best one ive heard. objectively.
I buy multiple copies of my favourite CDs and keep them in a bookshelf by my front door so I can give people I like copies of the music I love… and I adore Beach Boys!!!
Pet SOunds is genius and not because it was completely original, but because Brian Wilson was a pained, brilliant, artist who made beutiful inspiring music in a unique way. For start, the studio band assembled to record that record were some of the finest musicians in L.A. each of which were hand-picked by Brian himself. Brian couldn’t write music formally so he scraled these little notes of “chord diagrams” and used humming and singing melodies to get across the sounds he wanted to these musicians who were used to reading notes on a page. His chordal and bass relationship is downright bizarre. pick up a guitar and try to make God only knows sound right. you can’t because the melody is made up of chords on various instruments while the bass augments these chords with different notes, turning it into a completely new chord. seriously try to play it. I threw my guitar across the room. His chordal structures were unique and more rooted in jazz than in anything else, though I don’t think it was intentional. It creates a unique sound, jazz structure on straight songs. as for “studio advancements”, Wilson hated Stereo and instead mixed everything in mono (due to his defness in one ear). The mix of that record is so amazing and you can tell in every note anf beat that that record was a labor of love. Utilizing four and eight track machines, WIlson had to constantly bounce back everything to one track to open up space for the ammount of intrumentation on that record. anyone who doesn’t appreciate this record should be shot in the head, and I honestly believe that. I’m 21 years old, and this record is one of my most prized vinyls. but god I would love to have it on yellow vinyl. how cool (I have magical mystery tour on yellow vinyl, its sweet). so yeah, it is unique in chord usage and particularly bass lines and how they acompanied the final mix. he wasn’t using any new studio equpment. the person that wrote that little quip should be tortured, and not foreign torured, american tortured.
your friend Neil Bartlett
John’s got no soul. Also, Pet Sounds is the only thing that cures my migraines.