It is the album that somewhat bleakly decrees the end of the American Dream. The moment is delicate: the death of Kennedy, the political rise of Martin Luther King, the Vietnam War which has only just started and is already terribly stained by killings and bellicose foolishness, Germany offended and divided in two, the insistent air of an imminent European youth protest, the communist revolution of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara. Despite a certain political distrust (and a bitter hatred towards social minorities), the Beach Boys cannot, even if they want to, remain indifferent to events that are not only historically fundamental for democracy as a form of social breath but also as a new sensational opportunity for global rebirth. Thus, here is the turning point. After the great success of “Surfin’ USA” and after the half misstep of “Surfin’ Girl”, the Beach Boys published a curiously country album (with typically beat nuances) and, in their own way, redefine the boundaries of pop and beat.
“All Summer Long” is the album that marks the end of the 'cars, women, friends' trend (despite the usual beat ballad, “I Get Around”) and decrees the beginning of the season of reconsideration and melancholy. The Beach Boys change course and wink at the Beatles' catchiness, but with rare exceptions, they neither manage to be convincing nor hit any significant target. Nostalgia is evident in the (almost) sorrowful “All Summer Long”, melancholy is clearly perceived in the splendid “Wendy”, while in “Little Honda” the choruses and small authorial quirks unfortunately dominate.
Capitol (which has produced the Beach Boys since their debut) realizes that something is not going in the right direction and imposes, especially on Brian Wilson, to completely change the musical style. The result is “The Beach Boys, Today!” (1965), an interesting album, definitely better compared to this “All Summer Long”, yet, despite the great resources invested by Capitol, not entirely convincing.
The fame of the Beach Boys, already in 1964 (the year of publication of “All Summer Long”) was waning. The blame, however, if we want to be fair, should not be entirely attributed to the Wilson brothers (who have also struggled very much to completely renew themselves); the blame lies with the country America (I realize it is a complex matter): suppose, if Kennedy hadn't died, if the Vietnam War hadn't occurred, if the Berlin Wall hadn't been built, how much more commercially viable would the Beach Boys have been? Probably very much, and I dare say, they wouldn't have practically ended (artistically speaking) around 1966 (the year of “Pet Sounds”, an overrated album).
Already in “All Summer Long” one can glimpse some very brief, yet not negligible, hints of difficulty or, worse, musical insecurity: “Do You Remember” (but it also applies to “Drive-In”) appears, from the first listen, fragmented and disjointed, the result of reckless musical experimentation that Brian Wilson imposed, as a patriarch, on his brothers Carl and Dennis. Evident then, Brian's intent: to subvert the rules of the game, begin experimenting and, if possible, leave behind the happy childhood and the joy of living and with a strong and determined step, turn towards new perspectives (thus new horizons) to break into the hearts of more generations (the market consisting solely of teenagers does not allow substantial commercial tranquility).
Absolutely brilliant (and undoubtedly kitschy) is the refined cover: a series of photographs (depicting the Beach Boys or, in some cases, couples happily embraced lying on a beach by the sea) that compose, in a very artistic manner, a sort of generational picture that today seems old and outdated but that at one time, in contrast, appeared colorful and fun.