Surf Music Maestro Forges his Own Style

Endless Drummer by Ferenc Dobronyi and his band Frankie and the Pool Boys is an expansive musical treat that often tosses out the surf-rock rulebook.  

It’s kind of like that moment on The Sopranos when Meadow asks her dad if he’s in the Mafia. Even though Tony Soprano tells her it’s a load of crap, it’s pretty clear his daughter isn’t buying it.

Now, in a similar situation in a totally imaginary TV series about surf music, Ferenc Dobronyi might demur he isn’t the godfather of the San Francisco Bay Area surf instrumental community. He doesn’t have to openly admit it, because it’s 100-percent true.

Even before the movie Pulp Fiction triggered a second wave of surf-music popularity in 1994, Dobronyi—a stellar guitarist, songwriter, band leader, and producer—was supporting and evangelizing the genre with his band Pollo Del Mar.

Apparently, one surf band wasn’t enough for him, as he formed Frankie and the Pool Boys in 2009, and currently keeps both groups active by gigging locally and touring internationally. This tandem surf team has released 12 albums (8 with Pollo Del Mar and 4 with Frankie), appeared on numerous surf compilations, and performed at Italy’s Surfer Joe Summer Festival.

In 2004, seeking to promote the local surf community more tenaciously, Dobronyi founded The Battle of the Surf Bands with radio station KFJC (aided and abetted by renowned DJ Cousin Mary). 

But, as much as Dobronyi is committed to nurturing and championing the style, don’t assume the “surf godfather” explicitly follows some decades old “surf mafia code” from the 1960s.

Dobronyi’s varied musical approach is perhaps best demonstrated by Frankie and the Pool Boys recent release, Endless Drummer. The album begins with “Grind My Beans,” which struts a conventional surf drum beat and the classic waves of reverb.

But then things kind of explode into a cinematic galaxy of tonal colors, distinctive grooves, and compelling melodic themes—all informed by the narrative and atmosphere of the song at hand, rather than some conformist style police.

“I would get really bored with an entire album of traditional surf music,” admits Dobronyi. “Ultimately, I try to make an album I want to listen to.”

Endless Drummer is a cool title and an interesting concept, but it appears it was somewhat born out of necessity

The concept truly emerged from the fact I had recorded ten songs with drummer Dusty Watson [Dick Dale, Slacktone, Lita Ford], but I didn’t feel that was enough for a full album. I found three more songs in the vaults I had recorded with other drummers, but I didn’t want to re-record the drums on those songs with Dusty. That’s when the “what if” popped into my head about asking several different drummers I respected to contribute. It was fun figuring out which song would be a good fit for each drummer’s style.

Dusty Watson at Dobronyi's studio, Rancho Cielo.

Were most of the songs written specifically for this album, then?

Almost all of the songs were lockdown-era demos that were never performed live before we recorded them. At the end of 2022, Dusty came over to help give the songs a direction. He is a brilliant drummer and arranger, so he was able to give the hodgepodge of material a focus, all of a sudden, it started to feel like an album. The two cover songs on the album, “Walk Away Renee” and “You Only Live Twice,” had been in the band’s set for a couple of years.

What was the typical process for composing the songs on Endless Drummer?

As you know, there are so many ways to write a song. You just never know where a song is going to come from, but when it does, you need to pursue it and finish it. When I write, I’m usually focused on the process—like it’s a goal.

Some of my songs come from noodling around on the guitar, but my favorite way to compose is to go for a hike and empty my mind. The groove of my steps might inspire a melody, and I just have to remember it later. A fair amount of composition comes during the recording process, as well. One thing specific to the songs on Endless Drummer is that almost every song has a drum break, so we can bask in the glory of the impact of wood on skins and metal.

Do you tend to write to a predetermined title, or do you simply play until inspiration strikes?

I do keep a list of song titles going, but I usually apply the title after a song is written. Admittedly, I often go for long stretches without writing anything. But that’s fine, it keeps the material varied.

Did the various drummers participate in the arrangement of the songs, or did they perform to already recorded tracks?

The drummers were given an arranged song to work with. Sometimes, they wanted to hear what Dusty had played on the original version, and sometimes they wanted to hear just the instruments—not even with a click track. I really wanted them to play in their own style, so I left it up to them to write their parts.

If a drummer recorded at my studio, the process varied. Sometimes, it would just be me and the drummer playing together, and other times, guitarist Jono Jones and bassist Jeff Turner would join the session, and we’d record the song live. I preferred having the band play in the same room to capture the energy. The drummers who recorded their parts elsewhere played along to my demos.

Gracie Malley, drummer of The Greasy Gills, played on "Swamp Thing."

The drum sounds are very cohesive from track to track. In fact, it’s almost like one drummer played everything. We know the drummers and the studios were different, so how did you ensure the sonic quality of the drum tracks were so consistent?

If the drums were recorded by me, they were the same drums and microphone setup—although the drummers always used their own cymbals and snare. As for the three songs recorded elsewhere, I had zero say in how they were recorded. So, if there is any sonic cohesion to the album, it is largely due to mix engineer Gary Mankin, who I’ve had the pleasure to work with for 30 years. The guy delivers miracles.

How did you come up with the different instrumental parts that interact to drive each song and surprise listeners?

The melody, rhythm guitar, and bass came first. Then, we’d figure out what the keyboard could support, and I’d add some ear-candy tracks with the guitar. If any of the new drum parts changed a song’s feel or direction, I’d come back and re-do some lead-guitar melodies near the end of the recording process.

There’s a Jeff Beck vibe to the guitars in parts of “Brotherhood Way.” Was that intentional as a compositional tool, or was it more a factor of your guitar influences speaking to you?

As a group, we have wide and varied influences, and we love to let them percolate. “Brotherhood Way” sat around for a long time before it found itself. We started playing “Beck’s Bolero” as a tribute to Jeff Beck after he passed, and when we came back to work on “Brotherhood Way,” we determined the Beck influences should lead the arrangement.

If you were to put albums by Frankie and the Pool Boys in the genre categories of old-school record shops, I’m pretty certain it would be “Surf.” But do you tend to write specifically for a surf audience, or seek a broader, crossover to all fans of instrumental guitar music?

First of all, who is the surf audience? A very small group of people, to be sure, and among that group, I’ve found they came to the genre from varied places. Maybe they started out liking prog rock, classical, jam bands, punk, or ambient music. As a result, they tend to be open to variety. I know very few hardcore, trad-surf-only fans, so our albums seek a broader audience.

So, your inner dialog doesn’t say things such as, “This is a cool idea, but it’s not really a surf song, so let’s save it for something else”?

We talk about surf music very little. Surf music has a lot of rules—which we respect and adhere to on songs such as “The Ambassador’s Twist”—but I like the mix-tape approach. I want every song to be different to keep an album fresh and surprising for repeated listening. Endless Drummer, more than any of our other albums, offers a great range in styles—from dub to new wave, spaghetti western to ’60s soul, exotica, and more.

Well, just for the sake of context, what do you feel are the essential elements of a good surf song?

If you are going to do a trad surf song, you must have a great melody and the right sound. For instance, a digital reverb isn’t going to cut it and leave the humbuckers for your blues band.

Where do you feel some composers “go off track” when writing surf instrumentals?

A couple of ways. First, it’s obvious when bands use the paint-by-numbers approach—a “Wipe Out” tom roll, a Dick Dale glissando, and some raked minor chords from “Pipeline.” That’s really generic. The original surf canon in the 1960s was widely varied stylistically. So, I feel the creative possibilities are endless, while still staying under the surf umbrella. My other advice would be to cut the fat—no lengthy solos or too many parts. Get to the point and then finish it.

How do you assess whether a new composition has the mojo and vibe to be developed

further and become “worthy” of release?

I work at a near one-to-one ratio, as almost every song I write gets fleshed out and recorded. A composition may have to sit around a while—either in my head or as a demo—before it comes to fruition, but eventually it figures itself out. I mourn the songs that never made it. I just can’t understand what was wrong with them.

There are so many groovy guitar sounds on the album. How do you devise the main guitar tone for a particular song, as well as the supporting sounds?

Guitar tones are the best part of recording. There’s so much variety, and, of course, second guessing. Loud Fender amps and Fender Stratocasters are our usual go-tos, but we tweak tones heavily from song to song—mostly to make sure each song has its own personality.

Surf "board": Fender blackguard Telecaster with '50s Fender tweed Deluxe amp.

What’s your personal definition of a good mix?

I want everything to sound natural with minimal processing. We go to great lengths during the recording to use vintage equipment—mics, effects and attitude—but I don’t want the mix to sound like it belongs to any current era. I hate when you hear a song and know what year it was mixed just because some gadget had just come out at the time. [Note: Such as harmonizers in the ’80s and intentional pitch-correction glitches in the ’90s.] All that said, I also don’t want it to sound like a “live mix.” I love echo and reverb and playing with dimensions. The most important thing for me in a mix is to be able to hear all the parts and at the right levels.

How did you direct the various guest stars on the album? Some producers let musicians go totally wild, others rein things in to enhance their view of the song, and there are lots of directorial methods in-between.

All of the guests on the album were intimately familiar with the genre and knew how to work inside the parameters without too much direction. I do have very strong opinions, and I am happy to share them, but I also try to hold my comments back to see what unfolds.

I think the most “producer-ly thing” I had to do was pressure some of the people to finish their parts. It’s funny, but when I ask someone to play, it’s because I want their sound. But then, they would get all hung up trying to think what I wanted. I’d say, “Please just be yourself.” But that can be a hurdle.

Do you have a “go-to” rig for surf-instrumental sounds?

In the studio, it’s a Fender Jazzmaster into a Fender reverb tank into the Bandmaster—nothing else. The Fender Jazzmaster and Fender Jaguar are the quintessential surf guitars—mostly because of their magical pickup combinations. The Fender reverb tank, when dialed in correctly, provides that desirable surf drip. There isn’t a digital box that can replicate the weird mechanical dysfunction that defines the genre. A Fender Showman is the more correct choice of guitar amplifier for surf, but I find them too harsh in the high end. It’s that icepick sound you either love or that makes you run.

My live rig is my Frankencaster [Note: a guitar assembled from various parts, rather than completely built by a particular manufacturer], which is wired so I can get the bridge and neck pickups to mimic a Jazzmaster. I use a Quilter Tone Block 200 amp going into a 2x10 cabinet, and a SurfyBear reverb. I use the Quilter because it sounds great, and I’m too old to drag Fender amps around. My Fender tank is fragile to travel.

How do you feel the different players informed the finished product?

Everybody who was a guest on this album—as well as my bandmates—was so enthusiastic, and that enthusiasm bubbles up in every song. I know they all wanted to do their best work, but I don’t think they were being competitive—just aware they are playing alongside an elite group of their peers. The drummers loved that the album was focused on their craft.

Italy's "Surfer Joe" (Lorenzo Valdambrini), usually known for his guitar skills, played the drums on "The Ambassador's Twist."

Would you ever undertake an album with so many different drummers ever again?

I had an absolute blast doing this album, and I would do it again. It was time consuming, but I love working with other people and I thrive off of the curve balls and unknowns that erupt. I could easily come up with a list of drummers I’m still dying to play with. We’ll have to see who drops by. The downside of this concept album is journalists tend to focus on the “novelty” and forget about the songs. Oh, well…