Sometimes the universal adulation for an album is so unrelenting that I eventually buckle under and buy the thing. This album is one such item. If I were playing the Rich List and was given the “greatest albums of all time as voted by ____ magazine”, I’d pick this first (unless it was a shooting mag, in which case I’d probably go for something by Ted Nugent).
The kudos for this opus seems to spring from its ahead of its time status. Well, I don’t live in 1966, and indeed reside in a world of stereo sound, samplers, effect pedals and the like. As such, don’t see what all the fuss is about.
There are a couple of catchy, well-written pop songs on here like Wouldn’t it Be Nice and God Only Knows. Most of the remainder of the album leaves me cold and a little bored. And Sloop John B is just horrible!
Ultimately I like my sugary pop a little more energetic and haphazard. This thing sounds like it was recorded, shined, polished and then shined again. Alas, it appears I am a Philistine… (or ahead of my time?)
File under: Good for credibility, but not the CD player.