I have no idea what the beaches are like in Scotland; cold and rocky, I would imagine. But I listen to this song by Glasvegas (formerly mentioned here) and I have visions of Frankie Avalon and Annette Funicello frolicking amidst the warm waves and basking in the southern California sun. There's a delightfully nostalgic element here. Maybe it's the unabashed sentimentality; you really can't get much more hokey than to write a song about some unknown babe on the beach. But I love the dreamy, slow buildup, the sound effects of the waves crashing on the beach, the synths that imitate a whole schmaltzy orchestra, the Duane Eddy guitar solo that breaks out at the end, even the punk crooning, as if some poor, inarticulate yob can't help but to bust out into silly romantic doggerel at the sight of such rapturous beauty. This song sounds like nothing else on the debut album. But it's impossibly romantic, and goofy, and somehow touching; the kind of song a car mechanic named Ray might write for his girlfriend.
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