Most surf bands were huge phonies (NOT DICK DALE, NEVER, EVER, SO SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!), but land-locked groups like The Astronauts (Colorado) and The Trashmen (Minnesota) took it to a new level. Aww hell, who am I to tell these boys they can't have a surf party? Perhaps the TRUE surf party is in the mind of the partier—as long as the mind has cleared out all distractions, all music theory, and all non-party desires, surfness can take one over completely, an endless summer of lapping waves from womb-to-tomb / birth-to-earth / sperm-to-worm, etc.