POP MUSIC REVIEW : Surf Spirit Flows From ‘Pipeline’

Remember the Chantays? Sure you do. They were the group who did that fair-to-middling cover version of “Honky Tonk Women,” right? Or weren’t they the ones who did the interminable Eric Clapton imitation on “Have You Ever Loved a Woman?”

We may as well get the negative aspects of the Chantays’ “30-Year Anniversary Celebration of ‘Pipeline’ ” show out of the way first, so we might finish with the number of positive things that also can be said of the veteran Santa Ana surf band’s appearance Sunday at Randell’s.

Though the Chantays did indeed play those Stones- and Clapton-associated tunes, as well as a variety of other oldies, the real reason why folks have remembered them for 30 years is “Pipeline,” one of the first, coolest and certainly most globally recognized instrumental anthems ever twanged.

The song was a great Southern California success story. Within six months of getting their first electric guitars, Santa Ana High students Bob Spickard and Brian Carman got together after school one day and came up with an instrumental they originally called “Liberty’s Whip,” inspired by the film “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence.”

Shortly afterward, though, they saw a Bruce Brown surfing film, and changed the title to “Pipeline.” Released on the local Downey label in late 1962, it was picked up by the major Dot label early the following year and became an international hit. (Sunday, Spickard acknowledged that the anniversary “is a bit belated. You know we’re kind of old and forgetful.”)

“Pipeline” reached No. 4 nationally on the Billboard pop chart, and led to tours of Japan and even an appearance by the group on “The Lawrence Welk Show.” It has been covered by both every garage band on Earth and by Dick Dale and the late Stevie Ray Vaughan, whose 1988 duo rendition earned a Grammy nomination.

Though the song is an evocative, enduring classic worthy of its own museum, you can also hear gobs of adolescent enthusiasm in it, the thrill of kids getting loud, cool sounds to come out of their shiny new amps.

The Chantays of 1994, though, could benefit from having a little more respect for their own achievements, and from a tad more of the youthful fun which the band surprisingly still possesses after all these years.

Spickard (guitar) and Carman (guitar and bass) are still in the band, as is original drummer Bob Welch. Rounding out the lineup are guitarists Gil Orr (a member since 1967) and ‘80s addition Ricky Lewis.

As there are now support groups and therapy for aging child stars and other victims of neglect, there should perhaps be similar help for old surf band members.

With the advent of the British Invasion in 1964, surf players overnight went from being the coolest thing in town to yesterday’s news. The final coffin nail may have been driven by Jimi Hendrix, who on his debut 1967 album declared “You’ll never hear surf music again,” while using his Fender Stratocaster--the same instrument once used to produce the clean tones of surf tunes--to sonically destroy and reinvent all that had come before him.

In those divisive times, surf music became the most hokey thing around, and one-time surf heroes took refuge in love beads, long hair and fuzztones. Many even went so far as to paint their blond (the “official” color of surf guitar gear) Fender amps black.

When bands like the Chantays and the Surfaris started to play their old hits during the nostalgia boom of the ‘70s, it was generally done with a pronounced ‘70s sensibility: Hawaiian print leisure wear replaced the suits and striped shirts, while distortion and “hip” effects were added to the music, which often would be played with a tongue-in-cheek, we-don’t-really-mean-this attitude. Those songs would make up only a fraction of sets crammed with rote oldies or bland hits of the day.

Given that context, the Chantays on Sunday were a good sight better than might have been expected, playing their originals and other surf classics with both a youthful verve and a regard for the tone and character of the style, with one consistently glaring exception. Where Spickard, Carman and Orr generally played with the clean-picked tones of the surf era, 36-year-old Lewis instead plowed through with the gimmicked-up, distorto-tone, zillion-note approach that made the ‘70s such a long decade.

Lewis is a fine player, as indicated by his ensemble playing and a dexterous pedal steel-emulating solo in a Bob Wills tune Orr sang. But nearly all of his solo work on the surf tunes was in a style not consonant with the era, sort of like dropping a leisure-suited John Travolta into a beach party movie.

In doing cover tunes, the group isn’t actually straying from the practice of surf bands in the ‘60s, which often would pad their dance shows with the hits of the day. The Chantays schedule these days includes private and corporate parties, where danceable covers are probably still an asset for them. For a sit-down listening audience, though, most of the songs--ranging from “Earth Angel” to Bob Seger’s “Fire Down Below”--just sounded flat and derivative.

There were exceptions to that, the most notable being their cover of the Kingston Trio’s “Greenback Dollar.”

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The saving part of the show, and the part that really matters, is that the qualities that brought the Chantays to prominence in 1963 are still there. They kicked off their performance with “Pipeline,” and despite what must be the thousands of times they’ve played it, Orr’s shimmering opening glissando and pulsing rhythm and Spickard’s sparkling lead made it evident they still find a thrill in it.

The other instrumentals were scarcely less engaging.

Those included “Move It,” Jorgen Ingmann’s “Apache” and the Ventures’ “Walk Don’t Run.” For some of the songs, Carman switched from bass to his original instrument, guitar, to take the lead on the Belairs’ “Mr. Moto,” the Astronauts’ “Baja” and an impromptu version of “Miserlou,” on which Carman’s enthusiasm made up for the few flubbed notes.

I’d hate to be the one to suggest that the Chantays should stick with the sound they found 30 years ago, but it does seem to be the only sound through which they express much verve or individuality. There’s enough of both there that it could be worth their while to create some new material they can feel equally close to.