The Lawn Boys - Twenty-Twenty Vision For 20/20 In 2020

We can fix this. Be a come-with Four Or Five Guy©. Humor me. 20/20, as the larkiest merry-andrew knows, was the last album The Beach Boys recorded for Capitol, and it's generally pushed to the side of the plate when forking up the most delectable of their offerings. Because not that great. It's a botched job. Leave us de-botch this sucker. Leave us Do It Again, and get it right this time.

Sleeve first - a no-budget paste-up by the print shop. Get this into perspective. It followed the three great sleeve designs of Smiley Smile, Wild Honey, and Friends. Real Art. Capitol didn't give a shit, so that's what they gave us. Let's imagine - beause we can - something like this new one [above left - Ed.]. Could be better, but it's at least headed in the right (art) direction.

Feeling better already, huh? This is the point were we snap on our latex gloves, reach in, and extract the shit. First slippery nugget is the Bruce Johnston solo instrymental The Nearest Faraway Place. No album is improved by a Bruce Johnston number. Not even his solo albums. Next to get flipped into the bucket - Bluebirds Over The Mountain. Not only does it stink, it's co-produced and co-sung by Bruce Johnston. Fuck him and his eternal shorts and white socks. I'd rather have Mike Love than this toothy, boyish tub of nose paste. He's gone from the cover, too.

Although absolutely and totally and completely not shit, Cabinessence and Our Prayer get reverently laid aside. Their rightful place is on Smile. I know what you're thinking - Cotton Fields is next. But that's A1 [ISWYDT - Ed.] Jardine material, and it stays. As does what's left.

Still with me? I know this is a lengthy op-ed piece, and what with your ADD and bladder problems you're making a heroic effort, and I thank you.

20/20 is a real bipolar album, from Brian's blissed-out airiness to the naked animal lust and dark heroin nightmares of Dennis. Charles Manson is in the house. But set in their place, Dennis's songs come across as powerful, almost overwhelming pieces of music. And unique - nobody else has ever sounded like this. Especially not The Lawn Boys. They're balanced by Brian, who at this time was "institutionalized" and unwilling to helm the album. Tying the whole thing together is Carl, stepping up to fill his elder brother's skunky sneakers.

So here it is, using outtakes and other contemporary material, one crossfade and one added tag. It's gorgeous. It fits right between Friends and Sunflower, and makes for a swell listening experience you'll be proud to share with family and friends!