The Beach BoysBest The Beach Boys Albums Ranked
8.2
Avg Score
106
Opinions
46
Albums
26
Reviewers
Summary from 106 ratings
On Rate.fm, fans have rated The Beach Boys’s catalog across 46 albums from 106 opinions, with an overall average of 8.2/10. The top-rated The Beach Boys album is Pet Sounds (1966) with a 8.5/10 average from 19 ratings, followed by Sunflower and Smile Sessions. The discography on Rate.fm spans 1961 to 2026. God Only Knows ranks as the highest-rated The Beach Boys song on Rate.fm with a 9.8/10 average.
Smile Sessions
“Conceived, recorded, and ultimately abandoned in 1966 and 1967, SMiLE was to be something like Brian Wilson's Sgt. Pepper's, his attempt to make the great art-pop album of the era. The original tapes were assembled for this official release, finally giving Wilson's epic story an ending.”
Pet Sounds
“Does the world really need another CD version of Pet Sounds? In 1995, Capitol released a remastered deluxe edition of the Beach Boys’ 1966 classic; two years later, the label put out The Pet Sounds Sessions, a three-CD, ninety-song box set containing alternate takes, instrumental tracks and the first true stereo mix of the landmark […]”
Smiley Smile (Mono & Stereo)
“In the mid-60's, Brian Wilson declared a race to the next major development in record production techniques. Everything looked good in Wilson's Beach Boys camp. He'd just produced one of the most revolutionary albums pop music had yet seen with 1966's *Pet Sounds*, and the reports of the follow-up, *Smile*, were extremely promising. "Our new album will be better than *Pet Sounds*," he pledged. "It”
Surf's Up
“Surf’s Up occupies a fascinating place in the Beach Boys catalogue. Released at a time when the band were still attempting to escape the long shadow of the 1960s, it finds them embracing new sounds, production techniques and lyrical concerns while still retaining the vocal beauty that had always been their greatest strength. The Native American figure on the cover—Brother Records’ mascot, now looking refined yet somehow defeated—perfectly reflects the album’s strange mixture of decline and renewal. The Beach Boys may have seemed out of step with the times, but on Surf’s Up they were quietly reinventing themselves. The record opens with “Don’t Go Near the Water,” an eco-conscious song that was remarkably forward-thinking for 1971. Musically it is an unusual choice of opener, but the closing harmonies are glorious and immediately remind the listener that few groups could blend voices like the Beach Boys. One of the album’s major strengths is the emergence of Carl Wilson as a songwriter. “Long Promised Road” is the first of his two great contributions here, a spiritual and uplifting track that somehow improves with age. More than any song on the first side, it demonstrates how naturally the Beach Boys adapted to the sound of the early 1970s. The quirky “Take a Load Off Your Feet,” co-written by Brian Wilson and Al Jardine, remains one of the album’s oddest moments. The lyrics, including a reference to Brian’s health food store, are undeniably eccentric, but the song’s warmth and charm make it easy to forgive. It is an endearing curiosity rather than a misstep. “Disney Girls (1957)” is Bruce Johnston at his most romantic and nostalgic. At times it can sound disconnected from the rest of the album, yet on other listens it feels like its emotional centrepiece. Johnston’s sentimental writing style is matched by one of the most beautiful middle eights in the Beach Boys catalogue. It is also easy to hear how songs like this pointed towards his later success writing for artists such as Barry Manilow. The biggest stumbling block is “Student Demonstration Time.” Musically, the rocked-up reworking of Riot in Cell Block No. 9 has its merits, but lyrically it feels completely out of step with both the rest of the album and the spirit of the band. Mike Love’s “stay at home and don’t protest” perspective only reinforced the perception of the Beach Boys as out-of-touch squares at a time when they desperately needed to shake that image. In hindsight, Dennis Wilson’s beautiful “Fourth of July” would have been a far more fitting inclusion. Had it replaced this track, Surf’s Up might well have been a perfect album. That omission highlights my one lingering reservation about the record. Dennis Wilson was producing some of the finest music of his career around this period, and his relative absence is felt. It may even be why I marginally prefer the albums on either side of Surf’s Up. Still, it remains only a small quibble. Side two is where the album truly ascends. “Feel Flows” is Carl Wilson’s masterpiece and one of the greatest recordings the Beach Boys ever made. Built around jazz flute and drifting neo-psychedelic textures, it is spiritually uplifting, beautifully produced and endlessly rewarding. Every year it seems to reveal more depth. Carl’s vocal performance is magnificent, and the song confirms his transformation into a songwriter every bit as impressive as he was a singer. “Lookin’ at Tomorrow (A Welfare Song)” is a relatively straightforward folk composition from Al Jardine, but subtle production flourishes and phased vocals elevate it beyond its simple framework. It serves its purpose well before the album closes with an extraordinary trio of Brian Wilson compositions. “A Day in the Life of a Tree” features vocals from Beach Boys manager Jack Rieley. Legend has it that Rieley was singing the song as a guide vocal and Brian kept the performance as a joke. Whatever the reason, the result is strangely moving. Rieley himself joked that he sounded like a dying tree, yet the fragile vocal fits the song perfectly, particularly during its beautiful closing section. Like the album’s opening track, its environmental concerns feel decades ahead of their time. Then comes “’Til I Die,” one of Brian Wilson’s greatest achievements. For an artist often described as “lost” during this era, the song displays remarkable emotional clarity. It captures feelings of cosmic insignificance, loneliness and inevitability, yet somehow wraps them in music of extraordinary warmth and beauty. Its structure is unusual for a Beach Boys song—essentially verse after verse before dissolving into an outro—but that only adds to its hypnotic power. Finally, there is “Surf’s Up.” Rescued from the abandoned Smile project, it closes the album with one of the greatest songs ever recorded. The original Smile backing track, with its shimmering percussion that sounds like jewellery gently jingling, remains magical. Van Dyke Parks’ lyrics are among the most imaginative in popular music, and the decision to incorporate Brian Wilson’s original demo vocal was inspired. The result is breathtaking. Surf’s Up is undeniably uneven, but perhaps any album containing peaks as high as “Feel Flows,” “’Til I Die” and “Surf’s Up” would feel that way. Those songs are simply operating on another level. Although it was initially overlooked, the album’s reputation has grown steadily over the decades and it is now widely regarded as the Beach Boys’ second greatest album after Pet Sounds. Maybe it deserves that status. Either way, it remains an essential listen: a flawed masterpiece filled with beauty, experimentation, melancholy and some of the finest music the Beach Boys ever created.”
Pet Sounds
“Is this the greatest album of all time uhhh no for me it’s not and it’s not even close to abbey road and songs in the key of life and still very good but I don’t get the hype”
Pet Sounds
“this is one of those albums that if you were to ask your grandfather about it he would tell you how amazing it is”