Reverb Junkies is a documentary about surf music that’s full of interview segments with concert-goers who are less likely to yell “Freebird!” than “Reverb!” Junkies focuses on the fans of surf music rather than it’s history, but their enthusiasm keeps it interesting, and lots of history seeps in.
Reverb Junkies is a documentary about surf music that’s full of interview segments with concert-goers who are less likely to yell “Freebird!” than “Reverb!” Junkies focuses on the fans of surf music rather than it’s history, but their enthusiasm keeps it interesting, and lots of history seeps in.
Surf music was born and bred in Southern California, but that’s where it’s least respected, and least marketable. Junkies drives home that playing surf music isn’t a lucrative profession, and how surf bands command much higher salaries in other countries. As they say; “You never get any respect in your own backyard,” especially if your backyard has waves. It also unintentionally reveals that, with few exceptions, surf is now a style of music played by old white guys for old white guys!
In that sense, it’s a kissin’ cousin to my own obsession; rockabilly music, whose heyday was in the mid-to-late 50’s. I have affection for any music that followed behind and borrowed elements of rockabilly. Surf and rockabilly guitar are similar; both tend to be drenched in echo, loaded with twang, and brimming with jazzy, fluid runs.
It’s safe to say that surf music’s lineage stems from instrumentalists like Link Wray, Duane Eddy, and Chuck Berry (whose riffs still populate the genre) who all influenced its originators. No less an icon than Brian Wilson purloined Chuck Berry’s “Sweet Little Sixteen” for his own “Surfin’ U.S.A.,” which was settled out of court by adding Berry’s name to the songwriter credits.
There’s a debate in Reverb Junkies about whether The Beach Boys play “surf music” or “beach music.” The presence of vocals alone is a sticking point for many diehard fans. It’s generally agreed that surf is for the most part reverb drenched instrumental music, preferably played through a Showman Amp, a Fender Reverb Tank, and on a Fender guitar; a Jazz Master or a Jaguar.
Dick Dale is credited with coining the phrase “surf music” but as Junkies illustrates, there are many subgenres, which include spaghetti western, spy, space, jungle exotica, psychedelic, and hot rod surf, and many more to come. With the current popularity of zombies, can necro-surf be far behind?
While it’s not covered in the film, Leo Fender apparently worked hard to supply Dale with equipment that could withstand the rigors of being Dick Dale’s equipment. By one account, Dale blew up 49 speakers before Fender found one that could handle Dale’s punishing volumes. In 1962, Fender put into production the Fender Reverb Unit, designed for vocals, which Dale played his guitar through and many others followed suit.
While Dale is pictured and discussed, the only originator who’s present is Paul Johnson of The Bel-Airs, who wrote “Mr. Moto,” and along with other “first wave” bands like The Ventures, The Chantays, and The Surfaris, gave birth to a sound and new style of music.
The Beach Boys, Jan & Dean, and other groups added vocals, taking the new sound to a mass market, and culminating in the “Beach Blanket” films of the mid 60’s. Then The Beatles hit our shores and sent the genre to dead man’s curve after reaching its commercial peak between 1961 and 1965.
The film’s epicenter is The Huntington Beach International Surf Museum, and most of the footage seems to have been shot within 100 miles of its hallowed grounds. The Museum’s Special Events Coordinator, Linda Miller, produces and presents free concerts there. In one segment, she praises her right-hand man, delivering a line that wouldn’t be believable under any other circumstances: “I had to rely on Tiki Dude.” How bad do things have to get before you let someone named Tiki Dude take charge? Was The Big Kahuna needed elsewhere?
Like surf music itself, this is a low-fi, minimalist affair. Shot with handheld cameras at concerts, surf shows, and weekenders, it won’t necessarily win any converts for surf, but it’s a fun flick aimed at an underserved market.
You’ll never please every fan of any genre with a project like this. When I realized they’d made a documentary on surf without footage of The Ventures, Davie Allan, Los Straitjackets, or Man Or Astroman? I was skeptical. What you do get is live footage of cult bands like The Tequilla Worms (who, like all but one of The Beach Boys, don’t surf), The Ghastly Ones, and, one of my favorites, The Insect Surfers. There’s extensive interview footage of Dave Arnson, the guitarist/cartoonist who sketched the surfing insect that lead to this obscure but excellent band.
Xene Cervenka, of the seminal L.A. punk band X, shows up for a Space Cossack’s performance, and Satan’s Pilgrims, Meshugga Beach Party, and Thee Swank Bastards are also featured live. However, the band that steals the show is Daikaiju. Like Los Straitjackets, they wear headgear as a gimmick, choosing kabuki-style masks over Los Straitjacket’s Mexican wrestling masks. In both instances, it’s a brilliant concept–either band could stay home and send anyone they’d like on tour! Ideas of this ilk are generally conceived in underground lairs.
Junkies traces how, while surf music never entirely went away, there was a resurgence between 1980 and 1986, and a third wave of bands in the wake of the Pulp Fiction soundtrack. Tarantino’s 1994 smash featured the music of Dick Dale, The Tornadoes, The Centurians, The Marketts, The Lively Ones, Chuck Berry, and Link Wray, which brought a whole new generation of surf bands crashing onto the beach.
If you enjoyed films like Heavy Metal Parking Lot and Trekkies, which focus on the fan base of a pop cultural phenomena, you’ll like Reverb Junkies, and you might uncover some trivia that’ll win bar bets. It’s win-win. To quote Bart Simpson, “Cowabunga, Dude!”
Lord Carrett