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C o p y r i g h t 2 0 1 4 . U n i v e r s i t y o f C a l i f o r n i a P r e s s . A l l r i g h t s r e s e r v e d . M a y n o t b e r e p r o d u c e d i n a n y f o r m w i t h o u t p e r m i s s i o n f r o m t h e p u b l i s h e r , e x c e p t f a i r u s e s p e r m i t t e d u n d e r U . S . o r a p p l i c a b l e c o p y r i g h t l a w . EBSCO Publishing : eBook Collection (EBSCOhost) - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS AN: 649409 ; Timothy J. Cooley.; Surfing About Music Account: s5837110 Surfi ng about Music Timothy J. Cooley university of california press Berkeley • Los Angeles • London EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Surfi ng about Music EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use The publisher gratefully acknowledges the generous support of the Music in America Endowment Fund of the University of California Press Foundation, which was established by a major gift from Sukey and Gil Garcetti, Michael P. Roth, and the Roth Family Foundation. EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Surfi ng about Music Timothy J. Cooley university of california press Berkeley • Los Angeles • London EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use University of California Press, one of the most distinguished university presses in the United States, enriches lives around the world by advancing scholarship in the humanities, social sciences, and natural sciences. Its activities are supported by the UC Press Foundation and by philanthropic contributions from individuals and institutions. For more information, visit www.ucpress.edu. University of California Press Berkeley and Los Angeles, California University of California Press, Ltd. London, England © 2014 by The Regents of the University of California Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Cooley, Timothy J., 1962– Surfi ng about music / Timothy J. Cooley. pages cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. isbn 978-0-520-27663-5 (cloth : alk. paper) — isbn 978-0-520-27664-2 (pbk. : alk. paper) — isbn 978-0-520-95721-3 (ebook) 1. Surf music—History and criticism. 2. Surfi ng—History. 3. Music—Social aspects. I. Title. ML3534.C662 2014 781.5′94—dc23 2013027393 Manufactured in the United States of America 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 In keeping with a commitment to support environmentally responsible and sustainable printing practices, UC Press has printed this book on Natures Natural, a fi ber that contains 30% post-consumer waste and meets the minimum requirements of ansi/niso z39.48-1992 (R 1997) (Permanence of Paper). EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use List of Figures vii List of Online Examples ix Acknowledgments xiii Introduction 1 1. Trouble in Paradise: The History and Reinvention of Surfi ng 20 2. “Surf Music” and the California Surfi ng Boom: New Surfi ng Gets a New Sound 44 3. Music in Surf Movies 62 4. Two Festivals and Three Genres of Music 94 5. The Pro Surfer Sings 123 6. The Soul Surfer Sings 143 7. Playing Together and Solitary Play: Why Surfers Need Music 163 Notes 175 Bibliography 195 Discography 201 Filmography 203 Index 207 Contents EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Hernan Gonzalez Hernan Gonzalez EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use vii Figures 1. “Only a Surfer Knows the Feeling” ad featuring surfer-musician Donavon Frankenreiter / 5 2. The liminal zone of surfi ng / 11 3. “Drop-It-All Sessions” ad campaign by surfi ng brand Protest / 13 4. Surfers in Lake Superior waiting for the right wave / 14 5. Engraving from 1825 of a domestic scene in Hawaiʻi / 27 6. Man holding a papa alaia surfboard at Waikı-kı- Beach, ca. 1890 / 27 7. E. J. Oshier and George “Peanuts” Larson, San Onofre, 1937 / 33 8. San Onofre music and hula session, 1939 / 34 9. “How to Ride a Surfboard,” by Harold Coffi n / 38 10. Duke Kahanamoku in King’s Book of Hawaiian Melodies / 41 11. Barefoot Adventure fi lm poster featuring Bud Shank, c. 1960 / 70 12. Signed handbill for The Endless Summer / 73 13. Box cover for the video release of The Innermost Limits of Pure Fun / 77 14. George Greenough riding a kneeboard while fi lming / 79 15. Cover for Blue Crush DVD / 86 16. Cover for Thicker Than Water soundtrack CD / 91 EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use viii | Figures 17. The Pipelines on the main stage at the Surfer Joe Summer Festival, 2009 / 97 18a. Surfer Joe trademark / 98 18b. Untitled (Murphy Surfi n’ around the World), by Rick Griffi n / 98 19. Ex Presidenti, 2009: Gian Maria Vaglietti and Francesco Peloso / 99 20a–b. Surfer Joe Summer Festival 2009 poster / 100–101 21. Pollo Del Mar onstage at the Surfer Joe Summer Festival, 2009 / 103 22a–b. Relentless Boardmasters 2009 poster / 107–8 23. Watergate Bay from the Boardmasters music festival site, 2009 / 109 24. Fistral Beach during the Relentless Boardmasters surfi ng contest and festival, 2009 / 110 25–26. Frontline audience at the Relentless Boardmasters “Beach Sessions” concert, 2009 / 115 27. Ben Howard performing at the Relentless Boardmasters “Beach Sessions” concert, 2009 / 116 28. Pua Kealoha, Chick Daniels, Bing Crosby, and Joe Minor at Waikı-kı- Beach, 1936 / 125 29. Duke Kahanamoku playing guitar at a swimming pool in Chicago, 1918 / 126 30. Kelli Heath on a solid wood “hot curl” surfboard at Waikı-kı-, 2004 / 130 31. Tom Curren performing at the Concert for the Coast, 2009 / 136 32. Bamboo Room Philharmonic, San Onofre, 2007 / 147 33. Manhattan Beach surfi ng musicians, 2006 / 151 34. Cover of Kaʻau Crater Boys’ 1996 CD Making Waves / 155 35. Eddie Kamae and Mike Kaawa at the Waikı-kı- Elks Club, 2008 / 158 EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use ix The audio and video examples discussed in this book are available at www.ucpress.edu/go/surfi ng. audio 1. “He inoa no Naihe” (Name Chant for Naihe), also known as “Deifi cation of Canoe for Naihe.” Text collected by Mary Kawena Pukui and housed at the Bishop Museum Archives, Honolulu, Hawaiʻi. This audio example is a compilation of all four fragments of this long mele quoted in chapter 1, but in the order they appear in the original. Here it is chanted by Kalani Akana in the kepakepa (rhythmical, conversational) style and recorded by Aaron J. Sala-, 2013, exclusively for use with this book. 2. “He Nalu no Emmalani” (Surf Chant for Queen Emma). Text collected by Mary Kawena Pukui and housed at the Bishop Museum Archives, Honolulu, Hawaiʻi. This audioexample is a compilation of both sections from this long mele quoted in chapter 1. These sections of the mele are chanted by Snowbird Bento in the olioli (joyful) style and recorded by Aaron J. Sala-, 2013, exclusively for use with this book. 3. “My Honolulu Hula Girl,” by Sonny Cunha, 1909. Recorded by Horace Wright and Rene Dietrich, with accompaniment by Louise and Ferera on Hawaiian guitars and ukulele. Victor Record 18159-B, 1916. Online Examples EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use x | Online Examples 4. “Pirati,” music and lyrics by Gian Maria Vaglietti, performed by Ex Presidenti and released on their album Pirati, Surfer Girl Records, 2005 (www.expresidenti.com). Used by permission of Vaglietti. 5. “The Wolves,” lyrics and music by Ben Howard. From These Waters (EP 2009). www.benhowardmusic.co.uk. Used by permis- sion of Owain Davies. 6. “H2O,” music and lyrics by Kelli Heath, performed by the Girlas and released on their album Now or Never, Kototama Productions, 2006, (www.myspace.com/thegirlas). Used by permission of Heath. 7. “Little Brown Gal” (1935, by Don McDiarmid, Lee Wood, and Johnny Noble). Arranged and performed by the Manhattan Beach Crew (Mike Goodin, Gene Lyon, Al Lee, and Laurie Armer). Field recording by the author, 2 December 2006. Used with the permis- sion of the performers. 8. “Makaha,” by Troy Fernandez, performed by the Kaʻau Crater Boys (Troy Fernandez and Ernie Cruz Jr.) on their Making Waves album. Use courtesy of Roy Sakuma Productions, Inc. ℗ 1996 (http://roysakuma.net/). 9. “Golden Orb Weaver,” from the Life Like Liquid soundtrack, written and performed by Low Pressure Sound System, 2006. www.lowpressureproductions.com. Used with permission. video 1. Slippery When Wet, Bruce Brown, 1958. Opening scene and credits with music by Bud Shank. 2:58. Courtesy of Bruce Brown Films, LLC (www.BruceBrownFilms.com). 2. The Endless Summer, Bruce Brown, 1964. Opening credits with the “Theme from Endless Summer” by the Sandals. 2:14. Cour- tesy of Bruce Brown Films, LLC (www.BruceBrownFilms.com). 3. The Innermost Limits of Pure Fun, George Greenough, 1969. The “Coming of the Dawn” excerpt. Music by Farm. 0:59. Used by permission of Greenough, Dennis Dragon, and Denny Aaberg. 4. Storm Riders, David Lourie, Dick Hoole, and Jack McCoy, 1981. Segment about pro surfer Mark Richards, accompanied by “Big City Talk,” by Marc Hunter, Polygram Records. 2:39. Used by permission of Jack McCoy. 5. Momentum, Taylor Steel, 1992. Segment featuring Kelly Slater surfi ng and “God Song,” by Bad Religion. 1:32. Used by permis- sion of Steel, Greg Graffi n, and Warner/Chappell Music. EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Online Examples | xi 6. Blue Crush, Bill Ballard, 1998. “Surfi ng in Mexico” segment, featuring Amel Larrieux singing Towa Tei’s “Time after Time.” 2:04. Used by permission of Ballard, Billygoat productions. 7. Litmus, Andrew Kidman, 2003. Opening scenes from the fi lm, with “Rain,” music by the Val Dusty Experiment. 4:37. Used by permission of Kidman. 8. The September Sessions, Jack Johnson, 2000. Segment accompa- nied by Jack Johnson’s “F-Stop Blues.” 2:56. Used by permission of Johnson. EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use xiii This book is a collaborative effort, and I owe many individuals and institutions a debt of gratitude. I am especially grateful to the individu- als who took the time and effort to read and comment on drafts of parts of this book. Jane Schmauss, staff historian at the California Surf Museum, read early versions of several chapters and offered insights based on her years of activity in Southern California’s surfi ng commu- nity. Then she dipped into her deep well of contacts when I was strug- gling to fi nd a few key individuals to request their permissions for illus- trations and examples. Ricardo D. Trimillos, Professor Emeritus in Asian Studies and Ethnomusicology, University of Hawaiʻi at Ma-noa, read several versions of the introduction, and chapters 1, 3, 4, and 7 (over half the book), and then fi elded frequent questions throughout my writing and revision process. Patrick Moser and C. D. Kaʻala Carmack read chapter 1 concerning historical Hawaiian surfi ng. Kaʻala contin- ued to entertain my many questions about Hawaiian music throughout the book. My colleague David Novak read and engaged me in a fruitful conversation about chapter 2 on California Surf Music. A special thanks to Lauren Davies, the writer for several recent fi lms about surfi ng, who selfl essly provided valuable comments about my chapter on surf movies even though I do not profi le her fi lms. Finally, my wife and fellow aca- demic, Ruth Hellier, read the entire book, some parts multiple times. Though I cannot claim to have been successful in satisfying all of their concerns, nevertheless the comments, corrections, and criticisms from Acknowledgments EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use xiv | Acknowledgments these generous readers made this book much better that it would have been had I been left on my own. While researching and writing this book, I was very fortunate to have opportunities to present my ongoing work to groups of keen students and faculty in several states and countries, some with strong surfi ng communities such as in Ireland and Portugal, but others for whom surf- ing is somewhat exotic, like Germany and the Netherlands. Without fail, however, students and faculty provided valuable perspectives on my work. Campuses where I presented my work include the University of California, Riverside, where Deborah Wong provided especially helpful comments and critiques. I also aired early versions of my work at the University of California, San Diego; San Diego State University; and UCLA. Sonia Seeman and Veit Erlmann provided critiques and encour- agement when I presented my work at the University of Texas, Austin. At the University of Hawaiʻi, Ma-noa, professors Ricardo Trimillos, Fred Lau, Jane Freeman Moulin, Jay Junker, Victoria Holt Takamine, and Barbara B. Smith were especially helpful with their knowledge of Hawai- ian cultural practices and history. I am grateful to Jonathan M. Dueck, who invited me to present a virtual lecture to the Franklin Humanities Institute Faculty Working Group on Sports at Duke University. Jona- than also organized several paper panels on music and sports for the Society for Ethnomusicology’s annual meetings in which I was privileged to take part. Presenting my work at my alma mater, Brown University, at the invitation of Kiri Miller and in the company of some of my faculty mentors, Rose Subotnik and Jeff Todd Titon, was a distinct honor. In continental Europe I was invited to present my research at the Ethnography Museum of Neuchâtel, Switzerland; Groningen Univer- sity and Utrecht University, the Netherlands; Universidade Nova de Lis- boa, Portugal; and at the Hochschule für Musik und Theater, Rostock, Germany. I am especially grateful for the encouragement and helpful suggestions of Yann Laville in Switzerland, Barbara Titus and Kristin McGee in the Netherlands, Salwa Castelo-Branco and Frederick J. Moehn in Portugal, and Britta Sweers in Germany. In the United King- dom, I presented my work at Oxford University; Sheffi eld University; Goldsmiths, University of London; City University,London; and Queens University, Belfast. At these universities, my key interlocutors were Martin Stokes, Anna Stirr, Jonathan Stock, Barley Norton, Ste- phen Cottrell, Keith Negus, Laudan Nooshin, and Suzel Ana Reily. The Republic of Ireland has a lively and growing surfi ng community, and I had the pleasure of presenting my work there on three different EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Acknowledgments | xv occasions: at University College, Cork; at the main campus of the Uni- versity of Limerick; and later, as the keynote speaker for the Interna- tional Council for Traditional Music, Ireland, held at Mary Immaculate College, University of Limerick. I benefi ted from the comments and observations of several keen surfers on these Irish campuses, as well as faculty colleagues Juniper Hill, Colin Quigley, Helen Phelan, Mícheál O’Súilleabháin and Tony Langlois. All of these scholars and their stu- dents added depth to—and helped me identify the limits of—my under- standing of surfers as an emerging global affi nity group. My home institution, the University of California, Santa Barbara, granted me a sabbatical to work on this book, which I took in England. This may seem like an odd move for someone researching and writing about surfi ng, but have a good look at a map. The United Kingdom encompasses several islands that are washed by north Atlantic swells. There I had the great pleasure of meeting Brian Page and “Turbo” Tim, who showed me the surf spots in southern England, and Scotty and Aaran Williams, who taught me about surfi ng on the Isle of Wight. In Cornwall I had the pleasure of interviewing British surfi ng musicians Ben Howard and Neil Halstead, as well as Roger Mansfi eld, author of The Surfi ng Tribe: A History of Surfi ng in Britain. My spirit benefi ted from the camaraderie that I experienced in these British surfi ng scenes. At the University of California, Santa Barbara, I am very grateful to Dean David Marshall for supporting my sabbatical leave, and for pro- viding research funds. The Interdisciplinary Humanities Center on campus provided the fi rst forum for me to present my early research on the topic, and subsequently granted me release time from teaching so that I could focus on research and writing. The Academic Senate also generously provided me with travel funds for several fi eldwork trips. This project would not have happened with their support. Here at my home campus I also received sustaining intellectual support from my departmental colleagues, notably Stefanie Tcharos, who help me theorize notions of genre. I also wish to acknowledge Dick Heb- didge and Holly E. Unruh, former director and associate director, respectively, of the Interdisciplinary Humanities Center, who offered support and insightful comments about popular music in California; and sociologist Jon Cruz, who was a sounding board for ideas through- out the process. Finally at UCSB was a “posse” of surfi ng professors, staff, and graduate students who formed a core group with which to share ideas: Kip Fulbeck, Hank Pitcher, Stuart Sweeney, Michael Petracca, Judy Bauerlein, Ali Bjerke, John Lee, and Malcolm Guart- EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use xvi | Acknowledgments Williams. Thanks to you all for creating an intellectually stimulating and supportive community. Other institutions that became important locations in my research include the Surfi ng Heritage Foundation and Museum, San Clemente, California, which welcomed me to their well-stocked library and archives. Barry Haun, Curator and Creative Director, was particularly helpful. The Bishop Museum Archives in Honolulu is a key source for any project involving surfi ng culture and history. I have already men- tioned the California Surf Museum, Oceanside, especially Jane Schmauss. The International Surfi ng Museum, Huntington Beach, Cali- fornia, was always a welcoming site; I am especially grateful to JoAnn Beasley, who up until her death welcomed me and thousands of others into the museum every year. Goldsmiths, University of London, became my research home when in England. I am very pleased that the editors and Editorial Board of the Univer- sity of California Press saw some merit in this project and agreed to publish it. I am especially thankful for the editorial guidance of Kim Robinson, the Regional Editor, who fi rst provided substantial com- ments on my book proposal; Mary C. Francis, the Executive Editor of Music and Cinema Studies, who took the book on; Kim Hogeland, the Editorial Coordinator, who was both effi cient and personable; and Rose Vekony, the project editor, who appears to have read every word of the book; as well as copyeditor Carl Walesa and indexer Carol Roberts. Editors put up with a lot, and rarely get the credit due them. I feel very blessed to have had such an excellent editorial team. I am also grateful for the anonymous peer-review and Editorial Board readers for UC Press, who provided challenging and ultimately supportive com- ments on the book manuscript. I wish to acknowledge a core group of individuals who were invalu- able links to signifi cant communities of people. I thank David Weisen- thal, for introducing me to key members of the San Onofre Surfi ng Club, including Craig Ephraim, three-time president of the club. Both David and Craig helped me sort out who was who in various photos, and they did their best to keep my facts in order. I also thank Bob “Jake” Jacobs, “Honeybaby” Gwen Waters, and Fred Thomas, who each sat with me for long interviews about the history of the San Onofre scene. Dennis Dragon, member of Farm, a band discussed in chapter 3, as well as the infamous Southern California band Surf Punks, has been for years now an affable correspondent fi elding many questions, and even guest- lecturing in one of my university classes—much to the delight of my EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Acknowledgments | xvii students. Gaston Georis of the Sandals met with me several times to talk about his music since the early 1960s and also graced my university classes. Zach Gill facilitated a number of key introductions, fi elded countless questions about some of today’s most popular surfi ng musi- cians, and gave generously to me and my students with several guest visits to my classes. Andrew Kidman and Andrew Crockett became essential links to surfi ng communities in Australia. Finally, Aaron J. Sala-, Assistant Professor of Hawaiian Music and Ethnomusicology at the Uni- versity of Hawaiʻi at Ma-noa, generously organized audio recordings of Hawaiian mele for this book that illustrate key themes in chapter 1. Finally I wish to acknowledge individuals who contributed to this project by allowing me to interview them formally, or informally, on the beach, in the surfi ng lineup waiting for waves, or wherever we may have exchanged ideas, but whom I have not for various reasons named in this book. It is indeed unfair that so many people made this book possible, but that my name alone is found on the cover. Thank you, co-research- ers, named and unnamed. All that is good in this book is due to your efforts, while the mistakes and misconceptions remain solely my own. EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use 1 Riding a wave—surfi ng—is a cultural practice. Surfi ng is a deeply experi- ential actof playing with the power of wind that has been transferred to water to form ocean swells. Sliding down the face of a moving aqueous mound that is forced upward as it approaches shore, a surfer engages with the forces of gravity and water tension. Using techniques handed down through countless generations of coastal dwellers, the surfer harnesses the wave’s energy to move over water in a dance across that liminal zone between open ocean and wave-lapped land. Surfi ng is a balancing act on a watery tightrope stretched between a silently rising swell and a thundering breaking wave. Yet no matter how much skill, strength, and grace the surfer displays, no matter how small or large the wave that propels the surfer, in the end surfi ng leaves no trace on the water’s surface. Wave rid- ing creates no lasting product save a memory, a kinesthetic impression. In this way surfi ng is like music, for sound waves vanish the instant they are heard. Both surfi ng and musicking1 are ephemeral cultural practices that have no quantifi able results or functions other than the feelings they may engender, and the meanings given to them by people. Surfi ng and musicking require much more time and energy than is rea- sonable if their purpose is to achieve basic material needs. We clearly engage in them for other reasons. Yet even if we believe passionately that surfi ng and music are imbued with great meaning, we may not always be able to articulate what that meaning is. Let’s sing another song . . . I’m going to catch one more wave . . . Introduction EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use 2 | Introduction This book is about surfers and the types of music that they create and associate with surfi ng. But I need to be clear about which surfers I am attempting to interpret and represent. Surfers form a global affi nity group, but as with any group of people, no statement or claim can be true for every individual in that group. We could conceive of surfers forming any number of distinct affi nity groups globally. The stories I tell here are illustrative of surfi ng communities that I have access to: primarily cosmopolitan surfers from California, Hawaiʻi, Australia, Italy, and the United Kingdom, with much more limited input by surfers from other points on the globe. These surfers are global—collectively they have surfed at the best surfi ng beaches around the world—but they still represent relatively affl uent cosmopolitanism from North America and Europe more than the cultural sphere on any given beach in Indo- nesia, for example. To put it another way, dozens of surfers—some of them very infl uential in my posited global surfi ng affi nity group—have contributed to this book, but that still leaves millions of surfers world- wide whose voices are not represented here. This is a deeply personal book. I have aspired to ride waves and to make music since I was a child, and being a surfer and a musician has been an important part of my self-identity since my early teen years. Therefore, readers will notice that my authorial voice changes from time to time from that of writer-scholar to that of surfer-musician. In particular, I shift to the fi rst-person plural pronouns we and us occa- sionally and talk to the in-group tribe of surfers—a community I invite you to join if only for a moment. Come in . . . the water is nice. The critical scholar in me knows that the “I” and “we” here have very limited experience in the context of globalized surfi ng. I grew up surfi ng in Virginia and Florida before moving to California. I also spent about a decade living in Illinois, where I would surf in the chilly waters of Lake Michigan. Once I encountered another surfer at my local Chicago-area break, but only once. Beyond the mainland United States, I have had the pleasure of surfi ng in Mexico, Hawaiʻi, Australia, and the United Kingdom. Yet my experience with surfi ng—and with musicking—is individual. My experience is also highly mediated. As with every surfer-musician I interviewed for this book, my experiences are infl uenced by commercial interests. By this I mean that even the private pleasure of riding a wave is not pure and unaffected by the entertainment industry and other commercial concerns that use surfi ng as a marketing tool. For example, I am told what I should feel when catching a wave by an old Beach Boys song, just as I am reminded by EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Introduction | 3 the latest issue of Surfer magazine that I would look much better in a new pair of boardshorts. This book asks two interrelated questions: First and foremost, how is music used to mediate the experience of surfi ng? And second, how does surfi ng, and changing notions of what a surfi ng lifestyle might be, affect surfers’ musical practices? Through my interviews and analysis, I fi nd that music is necessary for making sense of surfi ng, for communi- cating important information about surfi ng, and for creating a collec- tive space where surfers communicate together something of the experi- ence of surfi ng. All of these uses of music by surfers help to form and defi ne surfers as an affi nity group. what does music have to do with surfing? In a feature story in Surfer magazine, Brendon Thomas wrote, “The connection between music and surfi ng is undeniable,” and Surfgirl Magazine editor Louise Searle described how “[s]urfi ng and music go hand in hand: like Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, strawberries and cream, and vodka and tonic—they’re all better together.”2 Surfi ng has even been (incorrectly) called the fi rst sport with its own music.3 The notion that music and surfi ng somehow naturally go together seems to be gaining traction. Four recent fi lms offer very interesting takes on the topic of surfi ng and musicking.4 The fi rst is Pounding Surf! A Drummer’s Guide to Surf Music, produced in 2006 by musicians Bob Caldwell, Paul Johnson, and others. Though this fi lm was fi rst envisioned as a primer on playing drums for instrumental rock, it evolved into an elaborate fi lmic history of early 1960s California surf music and its ties to Southern California surfi ng culture. Also released in 2006 was Australian surfer Dave Ras- tovich’s Life Like Liquid, consisting entirely of footage of surfers impro- vising music together, interspersed with clips of the same people surfi ng and musing about the relationship between musicking and surfi ng. In 2008 two additional fi lms were released on the subject. Live: A Music and Surfi ng Experience, produced by California-based surfi ng fi lm maker David Parsa, is a wide-ranging look at music and surfi ng that contains brief comments by leading professional surfers, surfi ng industry icons, and popular musicians. The fourth fi lm, Musica Surfi ca, by Aus- tralian surfer and fi lmmaker Mick Sowry, is a curious and at times per- plexing meditation on Australian Chamber Orchestra director Richard Tognetti’s genre-expanding violin playing interspersed with Derek EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Hynd’s quiver-expanding challenge to design and ride fi nless surfboards. Taken together, these four fi lms spin an intriguing tale about the inter- weaving of the human performative practices of surfi ng and music-mak- ing. The fi rst sticks close to the named genre Surf Music and captures a key moment in the history of surfi ng’s reinvention in the twentieth cen- tury. (I capitalize the term Surf Music to indicate that I am referring to a specifi c genre and not all music associated with surfi ng.) The second is an extended experiment to see what wouldhappen if surfi ng musicians were cloistered together for some days. The third is an expansive survey of music performed and endorsed by infl uential modern surfers. The fourth reminds us that both surfi ng and music-making cannot be limited to the narrow practices celebrated in surfi ng contests and by popular media. Music and surfi ng are mixed and matched in many other ways. Fes- tivals that combine some aspect of surfi ng and music are popping up around the world in obvious locations like Hawaiʻi and California, but also in places such as the United Kingdom, Portugal, France, Italy, and Slovenia. Surfi ng magazines routinely list professional surfers’ favorite music, review music albums, promote concerts and music festivals, and publish feature articles on surfi ng musicians.5 Surfi ng brands such as Quiksilver promote musicians, include music-related products in their lines, or, in the case of clothing company Rhythm, imply music in their brand name. Much of this is business as usual. Rare is the festival with- out music, and commercial industries long ago fi gured out that music was a compelling way to boost and sometimes defi ne their brand images. While this phenomenon is not unique to surfi ng, the use of music by the surfi ng industry tells us something about how the industry interacts with and manipulates surfi ng communities. More striking, however, is the surprising number of former and even current professional surfers who have second careers as popular musi- cians. This includes, most notably, the eight-time platinum-album-selling surfer-musician Jack Johnson, from Hawaiʻi; three-time world surfi ng champion Tom Curren, from California; two-time world longboard champion Beau Young, from Australia; two-time women’s world long- board champion Daize Shayne, from Hawaiʻi; free surfer Donavon Fran- kenreiter, from California (fi g. 1); and other surfer-musicians featured in chapter 5 of this book. There are also professional musicians of all sorts who are passionate about and draw inspiration from surfi ng, including popular musicians Eddie Vedder, Jackson Browne, Tristan Prettyman, Ben Harper, Chris Isaak, Brandon Boyd of Incubus, and Metallica’s Kirk Hammett and Robert Trujillo. 4 | Introduction EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Introduction | 5 But is there anything inherently musical about surfi ng? Is the rela- tionship between music and surfi ng—taken for granted and celebrated by insider surfi ng media and fi lms—real and meaningful, or is it a myth propagated by that periodically revived genre labeled Surf Music from the early 1960s (the Beach Boys: but more to the point, that “King of the Surf Guitar” Dick Dale)? Or are these the wrong questions? They are the wrong questions. Rather than asking if the connection made by some musical surfers between musicking and surfi ng is real or mythical, it is more satisfying (not to mention ethnographically appropri- ate and productive) to accept those connections as meaningful cultural constructions that must be taken seriously. Surfi ng is a cultural practice; its development, style, and, ultimately, meaning are all expressions of human creativity. Making and listening to music are also cultural practices that, like surfi ng, are expressive of the human condition. Yes, listening to music is an expressive practice; it is an activity not that far removed from making musical sounds oneself. In many ways music is in the listening. The same sound may be heard by one person as music and by a second as noise. Choosing what music we listen to, get into, dance to, worship to, figure 1. Surfwear company Billabong’s “Only a Surfer Knows the Feeling” ad, featuring surfer-musician Donavon Frankenreiter, that appeared in the Fall 2010 issue of the Surfer’s Journal. Reprinted with the permission of Burleigh Point, Ltd. dba Billabong USA. EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use compose, and share with our friends is one of the ways we create who we are as individuals and as groups. The decision to play in the water, to lie, kneel, or stand on a surfboard, and the riding styles we imagine and achieve are also part of who we are as individuals and groups. We can spin this out indefi nitely: the size and shape of the surfboard you choose sug- gest something about your style and skills (or aspirations), as do the color and cut of your boardshorts or bikini. Likewise, the instrument you play and the outfi t you wear when performing suggest ideas about the sounds you intend to make even before you begin making music. Let’s stick to surfi ng and music generally for the moment. Any indi- vidual’s and group’s ideas about meaningful relationships between these cultural practices and others form part of that individual’s and that group’s cultural identity. It is part of who they are and the identities that they create for themselves. When an individual proclaims that he or she makes music this or that way because of religious beliefs or ethnic heri- tage, we tend to take that seriously. Surfi ng may or may not hold similar cultural weight for any given wave rider, but we owe it to surfers to take seriously the connections they make between their musicking and surf- ing. The music that surfers associate with surfi ng is key to what surfi ng is, or rather the many things that surfi ng is, as well as to who surfers are and aspire to be. This is what this book is about. This is why making music about surfi ng and surfi ng about music is serious business. affinity, community, and the surfing lifestyle Since the essence of surfi ng is one person dancing with the power of an ocean (and occasionally smaller bodies of water), the sport lends itself to individualization. Yet while a modern trope is that the surfer would just as soon surf alone, surfers (like all other humans) seek communities of like-minded people. Sometimes in some societies this may begin by surfers saying what they are not. As Belinda Wheaton notes in the intro- duction to her book Understanding Lifestyle Sports, surfers and par- ticipants in other lifestyle sports may deliberately seek to challenge existing orders by being transgressive.6 Yet even transgression seeks company. Challenging and transgressive behaviors soon form the basis for a new identity group and even a community of sorts. Surfi ng did not start out as transgressive behavior; it originated with seafaring islanders who probably fi rst enjoyed the boost from waves when they returned to shore with a vessel full of fi sh. Before Europeans and North Americans sailed to Hawaiʻi, surfi ng was practiced and celebrated 6 | Introduction EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Introduction | 7 by all segments of Hawaiian society. In the early nineteenth century, Calvinist missionaries to Hawaiʻi instilled the still-prevalent view that surfi ng was unproductive and a waste of time, necessitated nudity, and was thus sinful. Much less common in Hawaiʻi at the turn of the nine- teenth into the twentieth century than it was a century earlier, surfi ng quietly took root in California and then spread around the world, but it carried with it some of the taint of transgression given it by missionaries in Hawaiʻi. Of course that hint of danger and rebellion suited some midcen- tury surfers, and later became an attractive (to some) quality of skate- boarding and snowboarding, both descendent board-sports fi rst devel- oped by California surfers. Globalized surfi ng today continues to cultivate the image of danger, independence, and subcultural edginess. Embraced by some but resisted by others, a term frequentlyused by surfers today to refer to a surfi ng community is tribe.7 The term captures some of the tensions between individualism and a desire or even need for community. Tribe sounds a bit out of place in many modern societies, and suggests a collective that is somehow different from—and slightly threatening to—any given mass society. A tribe is only slightly more respectable than a gang in popular usage. Yet tribe also suggests desirable qualities. A tribe is inclusive (women, men, and children of all ages are welcome and needed in a tribe), has some sense of heritage and history, and of course has rituals. An e-mail message I recently received from the California Surf Museum promised such a tribal ritual. It began: “Join the tribe—come celebrate Surfer magazine’s 50 years . . . ” The celebration would be a gathering of the tribal leaders, yet even lowly villagers like me were invited. By attending the celebration, one could ritually reaffi rm one’s own membership in the surfi ng affi nity group—the tribe—and at the same time distinguish oneself for a moment from the rest of society. Surfi ng is all about balance. Navigating the inherent individuality of surfi ng itself and the human need to form communities requires balance. Any discussion of surfi ng communities must seek to balance the contra- dictions and contrasts that make them what they are. In his book Danc- ing the Wave, Jean-Étienne Poirier writes with poetic power of these con- tradictions: “Surfi ng is the center of a sphere where some values evolve in one direction while others move in the opposite: sometimes the image of surfi ng is gentle and romantic, with a setting sun and surfers with mag- nifi cent smiles; sometimes it is war-like and violent, with illustrations of titanic waves that leave no room for refi nement and delicate dance moves. . . . Because opposing forces together create gravity, surfi ng remains in motion.”8 Surfi ng communities need the solitary surfer seeking EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use empty waves,9 as well as the local surfer who surfs the same spot when- ever the waves are up with the same group of friends, and even the surfer who rarely gets wet but who dreams of the perfect ride. All are part of a surfi ng tribe; the internal contrasts and oppositions are part of what keeps that community vital. Frankly, I also need there to be some sort of vital community for this book to make any sense. To approach music as an ethnomusicologist, I need a group of people making and consuming music. As the prefi x ethno- suggests, the discipline of ethnomusicology is very concerned with group identities, often defi ned as ethnicities. My study of music and surfi ng is in part a critique of my discipline’s obsession with the increasingly problematic divisions of individuals into politically defi ned ethnic categories.10 The posited global affi nity group of surfers that I am writing about here challenges the sorts of subjects that make up the stock-in-trade of ethnomusicology: groups that form around shared heritage, religion, regions, occupations, and so forth. Here I fi nd more useful recent theories of elective communities—from “cultural cohorts” to “affi nity groups” and “lifestyle sports.”11 Surfi ng is arguably the prototypical lifestyle sport—a sport that can be distinguished from what are called in sports studies “achievement sports.” Achievement sports are those typically taught in institutions (for exam- ple, football, rugby, baseball, track, and wrestling), and they emphasize teamwork and competition. Lifestyle sports are also called many things, including “alternative sports,” “new sports,”12 and, especially in the United States, “extreme sports,” as promoted in ESPN’s X Games.13 Windsurfer and sports scholar Belinda Wheaton prefers the term lifestyle sport because in her ethnographic research she found that this is the term that participants themselves used and that they actively “sought a lifestyle that was distinctive, often alternative, and that gave them a particular and exclusive social identity.”14 My ethnographic work with surfers agrees with Wheaton’s—play (playing music, sports play, and so forth) and life- style choices are ultimately about core issues of identity. For example, surfi ng musician Brandon Boyd of the band Incubus does not like to con- sider surfi ng a sport but rather a lifestyle.15 Similar debates about whether surfi ng is a sport or an art have been going on since at least the 1950s. To take on a surfi ng lifestyle is a voluntary proposition; it is to enter an affi nity group. Affi nity groups form around volunteer participation in cultural practices rather than through the genetic, heritage, or loca- tion ties (sometimes called “involuntary affi liations”) that drive most discourses on ethnicity. In some cases, affi nity groups may become eth- 8 | Introduction EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Introduction | 9 nicities over time; for example, certain religious groups tend toward this progression. Other affi nity groups briefl y burn brightly and then disap- pear or move into a subcultural scene. Individuals may move into affi n- ity groups at will, perhaps lingering for some time and then moving away, reframing their identity with other affi nity groups, or even as former members of an earlier group: “I used to be a surfer . . .” Surfi ng is demanding, however, in that a reasonably high level of fi tness must be maintained if one is to participate. As Wheaton notes, with most life- style sports active participation is key. Still, even deep involvement in a sport may be just a part of any individual’s multiple identities. This is an important quality of what I am calling affi nity groups. An individual may move in and out of several affi nity groups, even daily. For example, seeking job security, I hid my identity as a surfer from my colleagues in the music department during my fi rst years as a professor at the Univer- sity of California, Santa Barbara, but then would surreptitiously shift into my role as a surfer as I walked the few hundred feet from my offi ce to Campus Point to go surfi ng. As we all do in our everyday lives, I performed different versions of myself—or foregrounded certain identities—depending on the demands of the moment.16 There are three primary characteristics of affi nity groups as I am using the term. First, a cultural practice draws the group together: a particular type of musical practice, a penchant for dog shows, a love of gardening, or a singular dedication to participating in a sport. Second, the most salient feature of an affi nity group is that the individuals in the group are connected by desire—not by obligation born of family ties, religion, place of origin, shared history, or anything else. Yet more often than not such groups invent histories, origin myths, family ties, and even a sense of spiritual connection that approaches religion. Third, since participa- tion is driven by desire, it is also voluntary and often temporary, as already noted: members may leave the group at some stage, or move in and out of the group. One can imagine cases where desire leads to vol- untary participation that then becomes involuntary through the compul- sion of addiction or even economic necessity. Thus even affi nity must be seen as a sliding, fl uid notion, perhaps a point on a continuum some- where between attraction and obligation or addiction. the feeling of surfing: only a surfer knows It is an article of faith among many surfers that only a surfer knows the feeling of, well, surfi ng. The phrase “only a surfer knows the feeling” EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DOSUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use has been used as a successful advertisement slogan by the Billabong surfwear company, and is uttered by surfers regularly (much to the delight of Billabong; see fi g. 1).17 Both my conversations with surfers and items written by surfers reveal that the meaning of the phrase goes beyond the tautology that only surfers know what it feels like to surf. Surfers describe feelings of euphoria from surfi ng, and this feeling is often spoken of in mystical terms: they speak of its healing power, and some fi nd surfi ng spiritually redemptive. Steven Kotler takes a long look at the feelings of euphoria and spiritual awareness that surfi ng generates in his book West of Jesus: Surfi ng, Science and the Origin of Belief.18 He discovered that similar feelings of euphoria and spiritual awareness were generated by a range of extreme experiences, not just by surfi ng, but he starts and ends with surfi ng, as I do here. The feeling of surfi ng is summarized by some surfers with two related but distinct terms: stoke and fl ow. According to Matt Warshaw’s Encyclopedia of Surfi ng, the term stoke comes to English from the sev- enteenth-century Dutch word stok, meaning to rearrange logs on a fi re or add fuel to increase the heat. Surfers adopted the term in California in the 1950s. As its derivation suggests, it means to be fi red up, excited, happy, full of passion. As a description of emotional experience, stoke is complemented by another term, fl ow, suggesting an obvious kines- thetic play of moving bodies—the movement of water and the move- ment of the surfer through or over water. But fl ow goes beyond the obvious and into the realm of optimal experience, as theorized by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi in his book Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience.19 As Csikszentmihalyi explains, the mental state of fl ow is achieved through intense focus and concentration so that distractions disappear and one feels in harmony with one’s surroundings and one- self. One can experience fl ow when doing any number of things (includ- ing the antithesis of surfi ng for most surfers: working). However, I sug- gest that three defi nitive qualities of surfi ng create fl ow, and the interrelated feelings of stoke. These qualities help explain why so many surfers try to express or even replicate that surfi ng feeling (emotional and embodied) with music. These qualities are risk-taking, waiting, and submission. The fi rst defi nitive quality of surfi ng is risk-taking. The cultural act of surfi ng takes place in the highly volatile liminal zone between open ocean and dry land (see fi g. 2). One rides a wave along a thin line of transition between a harmless swell and the dangerous impact zone of a crashing wave; the zone of bliss is balanced between safety and despair. 10 | Introduction EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use figure 2. The liminal zone of surfi ng. Photograph by Chris Burkard (burkardphoto.com). EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use In that zone, one generally does not make music; even conversation is minimal. Instead, it is a place of waiting and watching for the choice swell that will become the crashing wave of a surfer’s desire. Once a surfer has caught the wave and is up and riding it, she or he often com- pounds the risks. Experience-enhancing maneuvers, such as seeking speed in the steepest sections of a breaking wave, or even stalling to place oneself in the volatile barrel of a wave that pitches its breaking lip out over the surfer, puts the surfer at risk of a violent wipeout. It is much safer, if less exhilarating, to ride well ahead of the breaking whitewater, and to kick-out (exit) the wave early. And many surfers seek ever-larger waves that occasionally prove deadly for even the most experienced. Waiting is a second quality that defi nes surfi ng, and perhaps surfers. Surfers must wait for swells, preferably generated several thousands of miles away so that the strong winds that created them are not present when the waves reach the surfers’ beach. No beach offers waves on demand. In his book Dancing the Wave, Jean-Étienne Poirier wrote that “[t]he sea has no schedule; it must be taken when it offers itself. It has its moods, and it is the surfer who must yield and accommodate them.”20 Thus, like a coy lover, the sea plays with its surfer courtiers, withhold- ing favors or offering them at awkward times that demand sacrifi ce. No wonder some surfers will cancel appointments, miss work, and skip classes when the waves are good—a tendency celebrated in Holland- based surfi ng brand Protest’s “Drop-It-All” ad campaign (fi g. 3). In my own experience, surfers struggle to balance school, jobs, relationships, families, and domestic duties with their love for the fi ckle ocean. Still, there is some truth in the stereotypes of surfers who are unreliable when the waves are good. The unpredictability of surfable waves does distin- guish surfi ng from many other sports where one might schedule an out- ing unless the unpredictable happens (we will ride bikes Friday after- noon, unless it rains . . . ). Instead, the surfer waits for the unpredictable, the unusual—for most places—weather conditions that produce good waves.21 The surfer waits. When the waves are good, the surfer waits again. Only the inexperi- enced surfer rushes into the ocean upon arrival. The seasoned surfer knows to wait—wait and watch. Read the pattern of waves and wait for the optimal time to enter the water and to paddle out through the dangerous impact zone to the spot where you anticipate catching a wave. Once outside, wait for a good set (a group of waves; ocean swells usually arrive in sets of three to fi ve waves). Rarely is the fi rst wave of a set the best. Less experienced surfers will scramble for the fi rst wave, 12 | Introduction EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use figure 3. “Drop-It-All Sessions” ad campaign by surfi ng brand Protest that appeared in Huck 3, no. 15 (2009). EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use clearing the lineup (a group of surfers in position to catch a wave) for those who wait. When other surfers are out, one might need to wait one’s turn in the complexly negotiated lineup. If you don’t fi nd your place in this set of waves, wait for the next. There’s always another wave for those who wait (fi g. 4). A third quality in surfi ng is submission. The ocean is the surfer’s mistress/master and teacher. The wise surfer asks for permission to surf and never makes demands. Legendary Hawaiian surfer Paul Strauch says that he always pauses by the ocean before entering the water as he seeks permission to surf. Even when the waves are very good, if he does not sense that permission is granted, he turns around and leaves.22 Gen- erally, however, when the waves are good, the surfer submits to the call of the ocean and, once in the water, submits again to its unbounded power. As mentioned above, a surfer must put himself or herself in harm’s way in order to catch and ride the wave. One must submit to the wave’s power, then work with—play with—that power to achieve the optimal ride or fl ow. The same is true when one falls while surfi ng— when one wipes out—especially in large waves that can twist and turn figure 4. Surfers in Lake Superior waiting for the right wave. Photograph by Shawn Malone (LakeSuperiorPhoto.com). 14 | Introduction EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADEFEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Introduction | 15 a surfer, holding her or him down for long periods. Every experienced surfer knows that there is no sense in fi ghting the ocean. When it is ready, the ocean will release you, and you will fl oat or swim to the sur- face for air. The best survival technique is to relax, wait, and submit. Perhaps for these reasons, surfi ng leads some to become contempla- tive—waiting for signs, listening to nature, thinking about and submit- ting to mysterious forces. In return, many surfers seem to fi nd healing and even redemptive qualities in surfi ng, both physical and psychologi- cal. This is a common (though hardly universal) theme in surfi ng litera- ture.23 The contemplative quality of surfi ng also leads many to talk about surfi ng in spiritual terms. The fi rst decade of the twenty-fi rst cen- tury saw an impressive output of books on surfi ng and spirituality.24 Comments and even feature articles about surfi ng and spirituality also regularly crop up in surfi ng magazines, such as the article in Surfer, titled “Is God a Goofyfoot,” in which Brad Melekian asks a Catholic priest, a Christian pastor, a Jewish rabbi, and a Buddhist monk if surf- ing itself might be a religion.25 (His conclusion is that it is not, but that it can be a powerful spiritual and meditative practice.) In my experience as a surfer, and in talking with other surfers, I’ve concluded that those who keep at it for some years tend to fi nd the practice of riding waves to be a deeply but inexplicably satisfying expe- rience. Personally, surfi ng adjusts my attitude, removes anxiety, and provides a level perspective on dry-land problems and pleasures. A Christian myself, I have a practice of surfi ng after church Sunday morn- ings, a tradition I only half-jokingly call the sacred ritual of the post- Communion surf. Sometimes this sacred ritual is more spiritually satis- fying than Mass itself. The contemplative possibilities of surfi ng may also lead some surfers, though not all, to seek musical expression. Other surfers are more focused on the adrenaline boost surfi ng can provide, and this inspires their musicking (something that Dick Dale claims, as I will show in chapter 2). There are many reasons and ways that surfi ng might encour- age musicking among some, but in most cases, surfi ng and musicking are enacted in different spaces/places/locations. On dry land—even on damp, wave-swept beaches—there is only memory of the adrenaline rush, the search for oneness, the healing power, the spiritual redemp- tion, and so forth that motivates the surfer. There on the beach surfers try to recapture some of the feeling of being in the water, surfi ng. They swap stories about their best rides, tell lies, exchange knowledge, reen- act their moves, and, as we shall see, make music. Therefore, the place EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use of musicking is a place of removal, away from the place of surfi ng itself. Connections between surfi ng and musicking must always be tenuous, changing, fl uid. surfing and music: approaches taken in this book A key ethnomusicological tenet is that musicality is an integral part of group imagination and invention. Though the affi nity group surfers is fl uid and as fi ckle as the surf during a rapidly changing tide, its indi- vidual members do share the core experience of riding waves. Water may be the universal solvent, but it also binds us all. In my look at the musical practices of surfers in locations around the world, I keep return- ing to this shared experience that binds surfers. And where I may theorize the global, I also keep it real by grounding my interpretation in the real-life stories of individual members of this community. This book presents a series of case studies that explore different ways that surfers—and sometimes nonsurfers—associate the cultural practices of surfi ng and musicking. Along the way, I also hope to expand ethnomu- sicological thinking about the many ways musical practices may be inte- gral to human socializing, and perhaps to being human in the fi rst place. The fi rst three chapters are historical and move chronologically, with some overlap. I start with the earliest known music associated with surfi ng—Hawaiian chant—and continue through Hawaiian popular music during the fi rst half of the twentieth century. I then move to the named genre Surf Music. Third, I analyze the music used in surf movies to see what they can tell us about surfi ng and musicking from the mid– twentieth century to the present. Chapter 1, “Trouble in Paradise: The History and Reinvention of Surfi ng,” considers the origins of surfi ng and music about surfi ng in Hawaiʻi. The passage of time does not enable me to speak directly with pre-revival-era surfers, so I rely on Hawaiian legends and myths, early written accounts of surfi ng (most by Europeans and North Americans, but some by Hawaiians), and, most signifi cantly for my work, Hawai- ian mele (chants). A number of mele about surfi ng from the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries are the earliest examples of surfi ng music. Through these voices from the past, we see that surfi ng was ubiquitous in pre-revival Hawaiian society, practiced by women and men, girls and boys, and though we know more about royal surfers since it is their surfi ng mele that survive, we also know that common folk surfed, too. 16 | Introduction EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Introduction | 17 Thus it is not surprising that there were chants and dances, rituals, and even temples associated with surfi ng in Hawaiʻi. Popular Hawaiian songs from the fi rst half of the twentieth century reveal a changing role for surfi ng, especially as tourists began to visit Hawaiʻi and to learn to surf themselves. Surfi ng spread from Hawaiʻi to the rest of the coastal world, and at least during the fi rst half of the twen- tieth century, emerging surfi ng affi nity groups tended to look to Hawaiʻi for appropriate cultural practices, such as music and dance, to express community. Hula (dance or visual poetry) and hapa haole (half-foreign) songs from Hawaiʻi were and still are practiced by surfers on California’s beaches, for example. Yet surfi ng also changed as more and more people traveled to Hawaiʻi, and as surfi ng was exported from the islands. The fi rst stop for globalizing surfi ng was California, and I show how the inter- action between Hawaiʻi and California led to the reinvention of surfi ng in the twentieth century. No longer the ubiquitous cultural practice of pre- revival Hawaiʻi, what I call New Surfi ng became hypermasculine, and would be increasingly driven by commercial interests. Chapter 2, “ ‘Surf Music’ and the California Surfi ng Boom: New Surf- ing Gets a New Sound,” picks up the story in California. Most conversa- tions that pair the words surf and music are focused on two related genres of music that came to be called Surf Music: instrumental rock à la Dick Dale and the Del-Tones, and songs about surfi ng à la the Beach Boys. Both genres emerged in the early 1960s, and they do capture something of the history of surfi ng, especially in California at that time. What Surf Music captures is the mass popularization of surfi ng that resulted from new technologies of mass-producing lighter boards, not unlike the mass production of electric guitars by Fender, a Southern California company that became the preferred brand of surf rock bands. Surf Music encour- aged the global spread of surfi ng itself and engendered enduring myths about Southern California and a newly white, youthful, and masculine surfi ng lifestyle. However,naming a popular genre of music surf was a problem for some surfers at the time, and became a problem for many who desired to make music about surfi ng subsequently. This second issue has only recently been resolved with the popularity of a number of surfi ng musicians. If music on the beaches of Hawaiʻi and Southern California is a good index of surfi ng trends in the fi rst half of the twentieth century, the music used for surf movies is an even better index for the second half of that century. In chapter 3, “Music in Surf Movies,” I survey the music used in a selection of surf movies that were particularly infl uential in shaping the EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use musical practices of signifi cant groups of surfers. I begin in the 1950s with the fi rst surf movies for which we have the original musical soundtracks and then move through the formative boom years of the 1960s, to the VHS era, and then on to the present-day digital formats. With these mov- ies I show what music was popular among at least some surfers before the named genre Surf Music existed, how some surfers responded to that genre, and the musical directions surfers have taken since the 1960s. The music used in surfi ng movies illustrates some of the diversity of musicking among surfers, but it also reveals distinct trends. For example, I show that surf-movie production emerged out of New Surfi ng’s new cultural centers: California and Australia. Surf movies, made by surfers for surfers, were a powerful tool for spreading ideas about surfi ng culture, especially music, to a growing and globalizing number of surfers. The next three chapters are focused on the present or near present, and draw from my ethnographic work with living surfi ng musicians. Chapter 4, “Two Festivals and Three Genres of Music,” is a compara- tive study of two festivals, one celebrating a genre of music and the other featuring a surfi ng contest with an attached music festival. Both festivals took place in the summer of 2009 in Europe, and each represented very different approaches to music and surfi ng. The fi rst festival took place in Italy and centered on the named genre Surf Music. However, there I discovered that the musicians most engaged with surfi ng were not play- ing Surf Music but were covering Jack Johnson songs or writing new songs about surfi ng in a punk rock style. The second festival was in Newquay, “the capital of British surfi ng,” located 260 miles southwest of London on the wave-grabbing coast of the Cornish peninsula. The music at this festival, which started as a professional surfi ng contest, tended toward two poles described to me as “mellow and surfy” on the one hand and “heavy and punky” on the other. The two festivals nicely frame three broad genres or styles of music that have emerged as key to my project: Surf Music, punk rock, and generally acoustic singer-song- writer music favored by an infl uential group of prominent surfers. Chapter 5, “The Pro Surfer Sings,” asks how it is that some of the most infl uential and competitive surfers have managed second careers as musicians. It may be, as some surfer-musicians have suggested, an extension of their efforts at expression. Whereas for many of us just catching and riding a wave is an accomplishment (perhaps similar to getting through a piano étude without too many mistakes), the truly skilled surfer is able to move beyond the mechanics of the sport and use the ocean as a canvas for expression. It may also be that, since at least 18 | Introduction EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Introduction | 19 the mid–twentieth century, there has been a myth that surfi ng is a musi- cal sport—a myth that fi rst led me to this project. This chapter shows that musicking can be an effective way for professional surfers to expand their personal brand. Clearly the surfi ng body is a desirable commodity in the entertainment industry, and has been since the origi- nal Beachboys—the Waikı-kı- Beachboys, from Waikı-kı-, Hawaiʻi— appeared in the fi rst half of the twentieth century. Chapter 6, “The Soul Surfer Sings,” returns to a persistent ideal introduced in chapter 3: the surfer who attaches great meaning to surf- ing before and beyond any professional opportunities it may offer. The category soul surfer does not exclude professional surfers or musicians, though I do attempt to balance the emphasis given to professional surf- ers and professional musicians in the previous chapter. Chapters 5 and 6 may appear to construct a dichotomy between the pro surfer and the soul surfer, but as with so many things core to surfi ng, the boundaries are fl uid: all the action is in the liminal zone. Chapter 6 includes ethnog- raphies of surfi ng musicians primarily from California and in Hawaiʻi. In these locations we fi nd similar ideas about music and surfi ng, but some distinctions as well. Some Hawaiian surfers focus in their music on Hawaiian issues of signifi cance to them personally. Some California soul surfers also sing about Hawaiʻi and reference ideas from Hawaiʻi. But I propose that the role Hawaiʻi plays in this musicking should be interpreted differently. Taken as a whole, the voices I present in this chapter fi nd surfi ng profoundly meaningful, even necessary for the maintenance of their souls, and they express some of this through music. The fi nal chapter, chapter 7, “Playing Together and Solitary Play: Why Surfers Need Music,” draws some conclusions about surfi ng and music-making as interlinked human practices. Looking again at indi- viduals and groups of surfers who play music together, I draw out two recurring themes: homologies (surfi ng and musicking can be viewed as the same phenomena or, at the very least, as analogous) and community sharing (musicking allows surfers to form community in ways that surf- ing alone does not). Key to both of these themes is the belief among some surfers that both musicking and surfi ng create similar affective feelings or experiences, and that music provides a venue for exploring those feelings and experiences. I conclude with a well-worn and well- worth-rehearsing ethnomusicological fi nding: musicking is vital in cre- ating community. EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use 20 Na Kane i hee nalu Oahu He puni Maui no Piilani Ua hee a papa kea i papa enaena Ua lilo lanakila ke poo o ka papa Ua nahaha Kauiki Kane surfed at Oʻahu, And all around Maui, Island of Piʻilani, He surfed through the white foam, the raging waves, The top of his surfboard in triumph rose on the crest As waves crashed against Ka̒ uiki.1 These are the opening lines of the third part of an extensive nineteenth- century mele (Hawaiian chant) catalogued in Honolulu’s Bishop Museum as “He inoa no Naihe” (Name Chant for Naihe), which also bears the evocative titles “Deifi cation of Canoe for Naihe” and “A Surfi ng Song” (audio example 1). Naihe was a chief associated with the Hawaiian roy- alty, and an accomplished surfer. He was born toward the end of the eighteenth century and died in 1831. Thus this is a late-eighteenth- or, more likely, early-nineteenth-century mele. The mele was later adopted for King Kala-kaua,2 the last reigning Hawaiian king, who died in 1891. He was nicknamed “the Merrie Monarch” because of his appreciation of and support for some of Hawaii’s traditional arts, including surfi ng, mele, and hula, the latter popularly known as a Hawaiian dance style but better understood as visual poetry. The following fragment from the same mele celebrates King Kala-kaua’s own surfi ng prowess (audio example 1): chapter 1Trouble in Paradise The History and Reinvention of Surfi ng EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Trouble in Paradise | 21 Kaili Kalakaua i ka nalu, Pau ka nalu lilo ia ia, Ka hemolele a ke akamai, Hee a ka lani i ka nalu. Kala-kaua rode the waves, He rode on every wave deftly and skillfully. The chief rode on the waves, On the swirling waves.3 Much of what we know about pre-revival surfi ng comes to us from Hawaiian legends and mele—the original surfi ng music. Since at least the surviving mele tend to focus on Hawaiian nobility, they skew our picture of surfi ng history a bit. However, Hawaiian legends and early accounts by Hawaiians and non-Hawaiians leave no doubt that just about everyone surfed—royal and commoner; men, women, and children.4 Yet the fact that nobility routinely surfed is a powerful reminder of the establishment role of surfi ng in pre-contact Hawaiian society. By pre-revival surfi ng I mean surfi ng by Hawaiians up to the end of the nineteenth century. As the nineteenth century turned into the twentieth, many commentators claimed that surfi ng was on the verge of extinction. Recent research has shown that this was not the case at all but rather a myth propagated by non-Hawaiians, fi rst out of igno- rance and later in a deliberate effort to encourage tourists to visit Hawaiʻi: by suggesting that Hawaiians had abandoned surfi ng, it cleared the way for tourists to colonize the sport.5 Even though surfi ng was never abandoned by Hawaiians and never died out in Hawaiʻi, it was “revived” in the sense that it was given new life in the fi rst half of the twentieth century by tourists and white settlers in Hawaiʻi, and also by its spread to other coastal areas around the world. With this revival came great changes, changes so great that I believe surfi ng was also reinvented in the twentieth century. I use the term New Surfi ng to refer to what surfi ng became in the twentieth century as it was rede- fi ned and resignifi ed by new surfers—in Hawaiʻi, more overtly in Cal- ifornia, and then quickly around the world. The act of riding waves while standing on boards remains fundamentally unchanged; that is not what I mean by New Surfi ng. Nor do I intend to suggest that New Surfi ng is in any way better than pre-revival surfi ng. My interest here is in surfi ng as a cultural practice with accompanying rituals, habits, conceptions about who surfs and why, and of course musical ideas and practices. EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use 22 | Chapter 1 Just as ancient mele tell us much about pre-revival surfi ng, changing music associated with surfi ng in the fi rst half of the twentieth century informs us about the reinvention of surfi ng. Using musicking about surfi ng as my guide, in this chapter I retell the history of surfi ng, begin- ning with pre-contact surfi ng in Hawaiʻi, followed by the reinvention of surfi ng during the fi rst half of the twentieth century. Where possible, the story is told through music associated with surfi ng, beginning with Hawaiian mele, then Hawaiian popular music during the fi rst half of the twentieth century, up to a genre called Surf Music, which is the focus of the next chapter. There are some pages in the middle of this chapter where I don’t write about music but instead present a history of the rumored demise of surfi ng, followed by its reinvention as it was globalized. The balance of the chapter and of the book, however, does address musicking among surfers. hawaiian surfing: the sport of kings and queens (and everybody else) Ka nalu nui, a ku- ka nalu mai Kona, Ka malo a ka ma-hiehie. Ka ‘onaulu loa, a lele ka̒ u malo. O kaka̒ i malo hoaka, O ka malo kai, malo o ke ali̒ i. E ku-, e hume a pa̒ a i ka malo. E ka̒ ika̒ i ka la- i ka papa ʻo Halepo- A pae ʻo Halepo- i ka nalu. Ho-̒ e̒ e i ka nalu mai Kahiki, He nalu Wa-kea, nalu ho̒ohuʻa, Haki ʻo-pu̒ u ka nalu, haki kuapa-. The big wave, the billow rolling from Kona, Makes a loincloth fi t for a champion among chiefs. Far-reaching roller, my loincloth speeds with the waves. Waves in parade, foam-crested waves of the loin-covering sea, Make the malo of the man, the high chief. Stand, gird fast the loincloth! Let the sun ride on ahead guiding the board named Halepo- Until Halepo- glides on the swell. Let Halepo- mount the surf rolling in from Kahiki, Waves worthy of Wa-kea’s people, Waves that build, break, dash against our shore. (“He inoa no Naihe” [A Name Chant for Naihe])6 EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use Trouble in Paradise | 23 Seafaring people around the world have found pleasure from the boost of speed provided by an ocean swell as they returned from the open seas to shore.7 Heading into the water for the sole purpose of enjoying wave riding, most commonly practiced by children, was his- torically widespread throughout Polynesia. Ben Finney and James D. Houston, in their book Surfi ng: A History of the Ancient Hawaiian Sport, note that in most islands of East Polynesia, all ages, male and female, also took pleasure in wave riding, usually riding prone on short wooden boards. In Tahiti and Hawaiʻi, surfers took it a step further. There they developed longer boards, six feet or more in length, and rode them while standing.8 Stand-up surfi ng was most highly developed in Hawaiʻi, where it was thoroughly integrated into society. Surfi ng was rich with rituals associated with everything from the making of surf- boards to the act of surfi ng itself, and with taboos about who could surf where, when, and with whom. Legends and mele tell of elaborate surf- ing contests with associated activities from gambling to courtship. And of course there were chants about surfi ng and surfers.9 Even if surfi ng did not necessarily originate there, Hawaiʻi remains the mythical font of surfi ng, and it is certainly the place from which stand-up surfi ng spread around the world during the twentieth century. And surfi ng mele show us that Hawaiians knew that surfi ng came to them from elsewhere—that they had some sense of global surfi ng before anyone was using the term globalization. The extract of the mele at the beginning of this section refers to Kahiki as the origin of a particular surfi ng swell (audio example 1). Kahiki could mean Tahiti specifi cally, though in this context it probably refers to any distant place beyond Hawaiʻi.10 The Hawaiian Islands were most likely fi rst settled by Marquesans around 300 c.e. but were then conquered and resettled by Tahitians around 1100 c.e.11 Whether or not the particular swell cele- brated in this and other mele literally originated in the waters around Tahiti is not the point. The mele can be interpreted as paying homage to an earlier homeland for these seafarers from whence Hawaiian people and cultural practices came—cultural practices including surfi ng. The description in Naihe’s name chant, excerpted above, of waves as “worthy of Wa-kea’s people” is also a key to Hawaiian myths of surfi ng. Wa-kea and his wife, Papa, are the legendary ancestors of all Hawaiian genealogies, especially the chiefl y clans.12 Beyond the fragment repro- duced above, the mele goes on to mention other notable ancestors and notable surfi ng spots, such as Kahaluʻu, on the Big Island, Hawaiʻi, a EBSCOhost - printed on 11/23/2020 12:59 PM via UNIVERSIDADE FEDERAL DO RIO GRANDE DO SUL - UFRGS. All use subject to https://www.ebsco.com/terms-of-use 24 | Chapter 1 surfi ng beach looked over by Kuʻemanu, a large surfi ng heiau (temple) built by Hawaiians long ago. Such temples were used by nobility to pray for good surfi ng swells, and
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