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The latest wave to hit the beach is folk rock. It combines the big beat with folk themes of unsentimental love and social protest. Its king: Bob Dylan, who leaves behind the straight-haired purists of folk as he takes up electric guitar. He and his imitators are bringing the message right into the front seat of the convertible, although it is still not strong enough to drown out the we're-not-too-young-to-get-married gang.
LIKE A ROLLING STONE (Columbia). Dylan lights out after Temple Drake's daughters, spoiled man-eaters whom he can only taunt and threaten. He shouts out the chronicle of a girl's decline from boarding-school brat to streetwalker. The lyrics, written by Dylan, are powerful and literate and the song is twice as long as most pop hits. But it is climbing the charts and probably dusting off a lot of dictionaries.
EVE OF DESTRUCTION (Dunhill). With a belligerence that makes Dylan seem mild-mannered, Barry McGuire declares the nuclear apocalypse at hand. Enumerating signs of deterioration, from Congress to Selma and Red China, he castigates the entire world. Efforts to ban the song from radio have failed, and kids are buying it at the phenomenal rate of 10,000 a day.
I GOT YOU BABE (Atco). Riding the folk-pop wave are Sonny and Chér, a husband and wife with Siamese-twin voices that make it hard to tell who's the boy and who's the girl, and even whether one or both are singing. They muse at the quaint notions of elders, who think that people who spend their allowances before they get them won't be able to make a go of marriage.
ALL I REALLY WANT TO DO (Imperial). Chér solos the Dylan song that lays down Martin Buber's I-Thou philosophy for teenagers: "I don't want to select you, dissect you, inspect you or reject you./ All I really want to do is be friends with you." Chér turns out to have a coarse, grainy alto voice with a wide-open quality that projects a lot of feeling without too much sentimentality.
IT AIN'T ME, BABE (White Whale). In another song written by Dylan and sung by the Turtles, he lectures clinging vines who only want a strong shoulder to lean on. "Go 'way from my window at your own chosen speed," he declares.
SATISFACTION (London). The Rolling Stones are getting the TV message, but they don't like it: "When I'm watching my TV, and that man comes on to tell me how white my shirts can be, well he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke the same cigarettes as me." The Stones manage to sing with nervous intensity and snigger at the same time.
CALIFORNIA GIRLS (Capitol). The Beach Boys make a point that is hard to dispute: a tan enhances the charm of a bikini.
I'M DOWN (Capitol). "I'm down, down on the ground," twang Paul and John and George over and over again. Ringo explains why: his girl not only flirted with other boys, but threw away his grandmother's valuable ring.
CINEMA
HELP! The Beatles romp through sight and sound gags pursued by a band of sinister Orientals out to make a human sacrifice of Ringo. Addicts will welcome the shots of the Beatles' communal pad, which — among other things — has wall-to-wall grass.