STAFF PICKS: BEACH WEEKEND
Each week, staff members compile a themed playlist and spotlight some of their standout selections.
“COWBOY NUDES” BY GEESE
By Aya Soussi
I feel like when you think of “beach” and “summer” music, the same sounds appear in your mind. They all consist of blissful lyrics, upbeat tempos, and an overbearing feeling of hope. That’s what summer’s all about: having no responsibilities, relishing in every moment, and finding the beauty in every little thing. These attributes encompass what beach and summer music mean to me. When I was asked to contribute to our “Beach Weekend” playlist, I immediately thought of Cowboy Nudes by Geese. I’m a bit biased towards the Brooklyn foursome, but there’s no way you can be sad while listening to this track. It’s about lovers who only have each other while embracing the end of the world. “Underwater” and “chk-chka-cha” are used as interjections, the lyrics are playful, and there’s bongos, damn it!!! You can even hear frontman Cameron Winter try not to laugh. Everyone’s just having a good time, which is the epitome of summer.
“A MILLION MILES AWAY” BY THE PLIMSOULS
By Anna Brammer-Depuy
The first time I heard this song was in the backseat of a car flying down the left lane of the highway, the wind tangling my hair and uprooting a napkin or straw wrapper or some such scrap of pale flimsy material from the floor and whirling it out of the wide-open window. The volume was increased so that the song could reach my eagerly receptive ears despite the sound of the wind and the car’s engine, and it seemed to completely envelop me. Anyone who tried to get my attention would have failed, for I was completely transfixed on staring at the rapidly passing scenery and lapping up the lyrics to A Million Miles Away by the Plimsouls.
This single was featured in “Valley Girl,” a 1983 cult classic romcom revered for its soundtrack. The film’s success accrued the California-based band national acclaim. Originally formed as a trio in 1978, the group (whose name is a play on the word “plimsoll,” popular British footwear notably worn by the Beatles) had made some marks on the California club scene with songs like Zero Hour, and their fusion of retro rock and soul punk sound settled snugly into the post-punk space of the ’80s.
The chorus “I’m a million miles away / And there’s nothing left to bring me back today” makes a lapidary statement evoking a complete detachment from the moment. The words combined with the runaway energy of the guitar leaves one lost in the music, staring out of a car window without concern for the wind’s entanglement of their hair or the unintentional littering of a napkin.
“LOVE AND AFFECTION” BY BOB MARLEY AND THE WAILERS
By Lane Webb
I’ve never been able to go on a beach trip without bumping some reggae music. Eek-a-mouse, Yellowman, Barrington Levi, and, of course, Bob Marley and the Wailers are always in the rotation on trips like these. The atmosphere of reggae music transports me into a tropical world of palm trees, white sands, and clear oceans. It makes me feel like I’m driving to the beach in the Caribbean, even when it’s really the Jersey Shore. I came across the song Love and Affection by digging deeper into Bob Marley and the Wailer’s catalog. I found their compilation album “The Birth of a legend (1963-66),” which features Love and Affection. I really dug this track because of young Bob Marley’s raw vocals and the vintage recording’s grainy sound adds so much character to it. This song was recorded around 1965 when the band was in their Ska era: their sound was more upbeat and faster, contrasting the slower, laid-back sound that they are known for in their later releases.
The lyrics of the song heavily focus on the themes of pain that lingers after getting out of a relationship. The repetition of the lines “This was caused by love and affection” really convey feelings of ruminating on things gone wrong, past experiences, and heartache that one can feel after ending a relationship. Deep feelings of loneliness are present in Marley’s writing when he says, “Now I’m a king, but sitting on an empty throne.” For how deeply heartbreaking the song’s lyrics truly are, the instrumentation creates a high-paced, hopeful sounding mood to the song that I love to listen to in happy environments like beach weekends. Essentially, Love and Affection is a wonderful example of how reggae music transforms feelings of heartbreak and lonesomeness into a beautiful, carefree, and uplifting song.
“SEABIRD” BY THE ALESSI BROTHERS
By Chloe Brown
Oh Seabird, how you’ve done it again. Seabird by the Alessi Brothers has been sporadically appearing in my life for the past couple of years, but this summer it struck a new chord for me, no pun intended. Seabird is my California swan song, my PCH soundscape, the sound that echoes through the redwoods in my hometown – though, to be fair, that sound may indeed be playing out of my Mini Cooper’s soundsystem. If you can’t tell already, I spent a good portion of my childhood in Northern California and although my Philly-self has become quite formed these past few years, there is nobody that will tell you I don’t long for those tall redwoods, the long-winding roads to the beach, the little houses perched on top of mountains, the bay. This song, in all of its beautiful essence, is my call to home, telling me, the lonely seabird, to fly back, a comforting call of refuge and warmth and stability. And this summer I did just that – I flew home, packed my bags into my friend’s first-generation Honda Pilot SUV after a 12-hour flight, and what did I realize was playing on the radio? Seabird.
The lyrics. The lyrics can be boiled down to a deep longing, the intense physical and emotional yearning for a place of comfort and safety. It tells the listener,
Even though you move on, “Even though I tell myself that road is closed,” the world isn’t “big enough to keep me away from you,” you’ve been “away from land too long.”
It’s like you’re wandering through your old haunts, your ghost towns pulling you back in. It’s a desire to heal from restlessness. But it’s not eerie, it’s not an unresolved negative emotion – it’s hopeful, like your mom calling you up to tell you she misses you, that she wants you back home for a bit, that she can feel your homesick deep down inside. The melancholic, dreamy, ‘70s Cali instrumentals perfectly encapsulate what it’s like to miss a place you call home, or a place like California.
Listen to the full playlist:
Contributors: Anna Brammer-Depuy, Chloe Brown, Kelsea Clarke, Maya Eberlin, Isabella Gonzalez-Heres, Delaney Heckman, Cara Reddington, Aya Soussi, Gabe Sullo, Tate Weaver, Lane Webb
Cover Photo by Delaney Heckman
