Seems like a lot of people these days have no clue as to what the hell "surf" music really is. Mention the surf genre, and some historically-challenged bozo will inevitably ask, "Oh, yeah, the Pulp Fiction soundtrack!" or "Surf music, er, ah, ya mean Beach Boys? Jan and Dean?" In fact, authentic surf music draws from more diverse musical forms than most rock n' roll: country, rockabilly, lounge-jazz, Spanish flamenco, Mexican mariachi, Jewish, and Greek influences, for starters. In the early '60s, surf was the punk rock of its day, and was played by some of the most technically-able guitarists and drummers in human history. Of course, today many consider surf to be strictly about style and schtick rather than substantive musical content. True, it was never supposed to be truly serious music. But then again, plenty of "serious" music just isn't as much fun to listen to.

So while the grim-faced Radioheads of the world toil away at their hyper-serious lab experiments, the schtick-conscious surf-rock clowns in bands like the Ghastly Ones get to have all the fun and make the kids dance. I'd be naïve, though, to fully recommend the Psycho Beach Party soundtrack as an apt representation of contemporary second-wave surf. But it does make for appropriate musical accompaniment for sometime Drag Queen/playwright Charles Busch's mostly-ignored homage to ridiculous '60s beach movies like Beach Blanket Bingo.

Although sometimes guilty of overdoing the cheese factor on his production work, producer and surf/hot rod guru Ben Vaughn offers up the musical equivalency of screenwriter Busch's pure camp sensibilities. Goofing off here are today's most capable second-wave surf-rockers: representing the Link Wray/Ventures style of rockabilly-surf are the masked wrestlers of Los Straitjackets, pitted against the faux-futuristic Dick Dale-influenced surf of our favorite Alabamian martians, Man or Astro-Man.

The main title theme, performed by Los Straitjackets, witnesses the rebirth of that beach-friendly beatnik percussive wonder: the bongo. The strongest tracks, though, are by lesser-known surf-oriented outfits the Fathoms, who with "Overboard," combine lightning-speed Dick Dale tremolo-picking with a penchant for spy-theme guitar espionage. The Halibuts leave us with, arguably, the most memorable instrumental, "Night Crawler," opting for the rare piano-driven surf tune. The playfully sinister minor-key melodies suggest a cheeky splicing of the "Munsters" and "Addams Family" themes. Then, there's Four Piece Suit's dance-friendly "Bombasteroid," with its Madness-inspired sax-driven sound and ska-influenced melodies.

But about half the tracks suffer from Vaughn's cartoonish production values, and his obvious intention of creating generic-sounding background music. The Vaughn-penned half-songs are mostly blatant rip-offs of popular surf-related exotica-stuff you've heard a million times since crashing those first demented beachfront soirees with Frankie and Annette back in '63. In the case of the Hillbilly Soul Surfers' "Cha Cha Wow," you're left with a pretty trite hick-jazz Western swing jam. Man or Astro-Man even make a weak showing with a rare vocal number that sounds like Thurston Moore being drugged and forced to sing a surf song about floating in outer space.

Only a few of these instrumentals can pass muster when extracted from the context of the movie itself. And this is not exactly the ideal sampler if you're not already keen on surf music's second wave. But if you're planning to throw your own psycho beach party or lunatic luau, the Psycho Beach Party soundtrack might be a more culturally-acceptable option than Don Ho. If only by a hair.

-Michael Sandlin