Beach Party

Brain Surgeons immediately set the pace of this outing with a bizarre/drunken Beach Boys-style a cappella rendition of Moby Grape's 1967 oddity "Naked, If I Want To." Where the Grape touched upon the Mamas & the Papas on their original, coming back in 1968 to remake it with a Blues Project feel, this quasi-B-movie soundtrack has its perfect opening in that display, followed by a very Rocky Horror flavored "State of Emergency," Deborah Frost's voice cutting through with "can't you hear the silent scream?" over a thick and riveting rockabilly/ grunge/punk concoction. The psychedelia subsides with another cover, a unique acoustic rendition of "The Red and the Black," a once raging Blue Öyster Cult relic from 1973's Tyranny and Mutation which heads toward the folky side of latter day Blue Cheer or, more to the point, making B.Ö.C. very Moby Grape. It's a wondrous hollow guitar workout, minimal vocals with none of the Cream "Crossroads" onslaught of the original. "Medusa," "Krakatoa," and "Siege and Investiture of Baron Von Frankenstein" could have easily fit onto any Blue Öyster Cult disc as subliminal nods to "Joan Crawford" and "Godzilla," while "Frankenstein" is replete with wolf howls and a superb hook of "world without end" that carries on for over a minute à la George Harrison's guitar riff on the backside of Abbey Road. There's a charming "Niagara Falls" slipped inside that trio of melodies to break things up, and that kind of pacing helps make Beach Party a very complete and satisfying disc. The heavy pop is divided by tunes like "Date with My Guitar," a lovely neo-punk chant with mandolin and use of an inverted "Layla" riff, Deborah Frost getting back to rock & roll business with a sexy, sultry "Stealin' Thing," the rhythm section of bassist David Hirschberg and drummer Albert Bouchard accompanying her and able to stir up a sound as if this were a quintet. Ending with a one-two punch of the instrumental surf invasion "Gas Hog," a sort of sequel to Lou Reed's classic "Cycle Annie" from his Pickwick Records songwriting days, and a wonderfully trashy "Pissin' Away the Summer" — a bluesy lament to a blown relationship and thus, a blown summer — makes for some fun listening. Off-key vocals over a terrific groove that would make the Cramps proud conclude Beach Party, a paean to underground rockers taking Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello down to their worst nightmare. Though Chubby Checker, himself the creator of an equally satisfying disc entitled Beach Party, would be proud.