B-Side Sunday.

Leaping out of your web browser with more excitement than a puppydog that has inherited an Andrex factory, it’s B-Side Sunday! Like that elderly gentleman lurking in the playground whose underwear was always stuffed with sweets, B-Side Sunday is dark, complex and just a little dangerous – yet still simultaneously succeeds in being cuddiler than an army of Nans reading a bedtime story to a million slumbering kittens. Indeed, B-Side Sunday is all things to all men; and if it were a book, it would be rammed with all the steely wisdom and deathless aphorism of Steinbeck but still manage to be so damnedably erotic that you’d only ever want to read it one-handed. Packing more brooding intelligence than a spurned librarian, this week we see The Beach Boys venture forth with ‘Don’t Worry Baby’ – a fantastic slice of tender vulnerability wrapped up neatly in layers of candycane melody that is so gloriously mismatched it’s like watching Glasvegas tearfully flail around a children’s birthday party.

Having sat still on the flipside to ‘I Get Around’ for over 40 years, our Brian’s finest offcut is understandably eager to get going; and does so, with ample bravura and melancholic majesty. ‘Don’t Worry Baby’ serves as a shimmering reminder of a time when music still meant something to Mr. Wilson, before all the acid/birthday cake and he ended up sat alone in an anonymous Californian mansion with a bank balance bigger than the high score on God’s pinball machine. Still, it’s easy to lose yourself up in the eyrie, just look at Kayne West. In fact, don’t. Amen.