The creators of the Yacht Rock web series that coined the term, featured in a Yacht Rock documentary exploring the genre's origins and definition.
Experiencing HBO’s Yacht Rock: A Dockumentary brought about a familiar feeling, one I’d encountered while tuning into SiriusXM’s Yacht Rock station during the summer months: the playlist within this supposed genre feels remarkably… finite. This realization sparks a crucial question: is Yacht Rock truly a genre in its own right, or something more nuanced?
Perhaps “genre” is too rigid a term. Yacht Rock might be better understood as a specific sonic texture, a style, an attitude. It’s a refined subset within the broader category of soft rock, characterized by an aura of sophisticated leisure and, undeniably, a hint of extravagance. But beneath this polished, shimmering exterior lies a distinct musical DNA. Certain sonic signatures set Yacht Rock apart from your average soft rock tune. Crucially, it leans heavily on soul and jazz influences, prioritizing a smooth groove and instrumental interplay over conventional song structures.
This definition isn’t arbitrary; it’s rooted in the very team that coined the term “Yacht Rock.” Back in the mid-2000s, their comedic web series gave birth to the label. “Yacht Rock” the series became an unexpected internet phenomenon, achieving viral status before “going viral” became commonplace, even predating the ubiquity of YouTube. While perhaps arriving slightly before the internet fully matured as a platform for creators to monetize fame, Yacht Rock proved to be more than a fleeting online joke. The phrase transcended its origins, becoming the lens through which popular culture began to re-examine and categorize the mellow, immaculately produced sounds that dominated mainstream pop radio roughly between 1978 and 1983. This group of comedians and music aficionados inadvertently crafted a work of cultural criticism, providing a definitive label and framework for understanding the smooth sounds of a specific era.
As often happens with impactful ideas, the concept of Yacht Rock quickly expanded, sometimes losing its initial precision. Yacht Rock Radio, a staple on SiriusXM, exemplifies this broader interpretation. It caters to an audience seeking easy listening and nostalgic enjoyment above all else. Any hint of critical discernment seems absent in this environment, where listeners, often adorned in captain’s hats and aviator sunglasses, enthusiastically embrace tribute acts like the Yacht Rock Revue. These bands, while skilled musicians, often present a somewhat tongue-in-cheek, almost mocking, interpretation of the music. Neither the audience nor these performers seem particularly concerned with differentiating the Bee Gees from the Doobie Brothers, or parsing the nuances between Jay Ferguson and Christopher Cross. It all becomes homogenized into feel-good fodder for a nostalgic trip down memory lane.
However, Yacht Rock: A Dockumentary distinguishes itself by taking a far more meticulous approach. Those behind the film are deeply invested in highlighting the subtle yet significant distinctions between generic, beach-themed soft rock and the more refined, studio-crafted sophistication of true Yacht Rock. The documentary effectively articulates the genre’s defining characteristics, particularly its foundation in skilled studio musicians interpreting and incorporating elements of Black music. This nuanced explanation is delivered with clarity and precision, employing helpful flow charts, carefully selected musical clips, and engaging interviews with a diverse range of talking heads – musicians, music critics, historians, and comedians. These voices are knowledgeable in rock critic terminology yet avoid elitism, chronicling the style with evident respect and fondness.
Unlike many music documentaries that primarily focus on narrative, Yacht Rock: A Dockumentary dedicates significant time to critical analysis. A compelling example is the segment explaining why, despite some superficial sonic similarities, Daryl Hall & John Oates are not considered Yacht Rock artists. The documentary argues they are “too Philadelphian,” a surprisingly insightful and accurate assessment rooted in their distinct musical origins and sensibilities. The documentary pinpoints Steely Dan as the linchpin of the entire Yacht Rock argument. Steely Dan’s legendary pursuit of sonic perfection led them to employ session musicians who would later become ubiquitous on countless recordings fitting the Yacht Rock description. While many of these session musicians had established careers before Steely Dan’s retreat from touring, the band’s studio ethos was transformative. When Donald Fagen and Walter Becker meticulously sought out the ideal guitarist to execute the solo for “Kid Charlemagne,” they essentially created a template, granting permission for other artists to prioritize studio craftsmanship and sonic detail above all else.
This argument resonates, particularly when Christopher Cross himself appears in the documentary, explicitly stating his ambition for his debut album to emulate the sound of Steely Dan. Yet, the 1970s were undeniably a golden age for studio musicians across various genres. Dave Grohl’s documentary Sound City celebrated the iconic Los Angeles studio where landmark albums like Fleetwood Mac’s self-titled masterpiece, Cheap Trick’s Heaven Tonight, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers’ Damn the Torpedoes, and Rick Springfield’s Working Class Dog were recorded. On the East Coast, the Power Station studio hosted the creation of Dire Straits’ Making Movies and Love Over Gold, albums that rivaled Steely Dan’s Aja in hi-fi sonic quality, as did Roxy Music’s opulent Avalon. Exquisite production was a hallmark of mainstream pop/rock of the era, not solely the domain of a Steely Dan-inspired universe.
The prevalence of slick, polished production in late 1970s and early 1980s pop/rock makes it understandable why casual listeners often conflate generic soft rock with the more precisely defined Yacht Rock – especially when the airwaves were filled with major adult contemporary hits centered around themes of piña coladas, summer breezes, Key Largo escapes, and tropical islands. While “Yacht Rock” certainly evokes images of affluence, the “yacht” itself is inextricably linked to the sea. Therefore, it’s unsurprising that audiences less concerned with the intricacies of the Porcaro brothers’ session work might not discern the subtle funk and sophisticated pop craftsmanship that distinguishes Kenny Loggins from softer folk-rock contemporaries like America. For those who do obsess over these details, there is Yacht Or Nyacht, the podcast hosted by JD Ryznar, “Hollywood” Steve Huey, Dave Lyons, and Hunter Stair – the very creators of the original Yacht Rock web series and the term itself.
Supplementing the podcast is the website Yacht or Nyacht, a treasure trove of expert song rankings according to the crew’s meticulously defined Yacht Rock criteria. This list can yield surprising insights. For instance, Boz Scaggs, an artist seemingly synonymous with Yacht Rock, whose Silk Degrees album directly led to the formation of Toto – a band arguably embodying the Yacht Rock archetype – does not dominate their list of Essential Yacht Rock Songs. Ryznar, Huey, Lyons, and Stair exhibit the unwavering rigor in their taste that only true believers possess; for them, sonic subtleties are paramount. Their curated list of “Essentials”—songs scoring 90 or above on their proprietary “Yachtski Scale”—comprises a mere 45 tracks, barely enough to fill a few hours of radio programming.
Another notable characteristic of the Yacht Rock team’s essential selections is the relatively small number of massive pop hits within their top tier. While the list includes some of the most enduring soft rock hits of the era—”What a Fool Believes,” “Heart to Heart,” “Rosanna,” “Sailing,” “Ride Like the Wind,” “Africa,” etc.—it also features a significant number of deeper cuts and near-misses. This suggests that authentic Yacht Rock is an aesthetic that exists within the mainstream but isn’t solely driven by chart-topping success. Indeed, a review of Joel Whitburn’s Billboard chart books reveals that “What A Fool Believes,” “Sailing,” “Africa,” and “Baby, Come to Me” are the only Yacht Rock Essentials to have reached the coveted #1 spot on the Hot 100. Furthermore, Yacht Rock’s presence on the Adult Contemporary charts was surprisingly modest. “What A Fool Believes”—a song so foundational to the style that Yacht Rock: A Dockumentary dedicates a delightful segment to exploring its numerous sonic imitators—only reached number 22 on the AC chart. Even Christopher Cross, a Yacht Rock icon, surprisingly peaked at number one on the Adult Contemporary chart not with “Sailing,” but with “Never Be the Same” and “Think of Laura,” the latter topping the charts in 1984, arguably slightly past Yacht Rock’s purest era.
Yacht Rock, therefore, might be best understood as a subgenre defined less by chart dominance and more by a specific, evocative aesthetic. The term itself, “Yacht Rock,” is undeniably catchy and evocative, contributing to its widespread adoption and, at times, misappropriation. It paints a vivid picture in a way that more generic labels like “soft rock” or “adult contemporary” simply cannot. It’s not just casual listeners or cosplay captains who broaden the definition of Yacht Rock. Questlove, a respected musician and cultural commentator who appears as a talking head in Yacht Rock: A Dockumentary, acknowledges the expansive nature of the term when he qualifies his extensive Spotify Yacht Rock playlist. He humorously adds the descriptor “Dentist Office Pop,” a broadly encompassing, invented category designed to capture everything from sepia-toned soft rock to the synthesized pop of Mike + the Mechanics – the latter representing an icy, synthesized sound that stands in stark contrast to the warm, organic textures typically associated with Yacht Rock. While Questlove’s inclusive definition may dilute the specific charms of Yacht Rock as narrowly defined, any playlist exceeding 52 hours is inevitably going to stretch the boundaries of even the most amorphous genre.
While I personally find myself slightly resistant to Questlove’s all-encompassing playlist, it does highlight the ongoing debate and evolving understanding of Yacht Rock. His playlist feels more like a comprehensive survey of songs that received radio airplay during the 1980s, encompassing everything from album-oriented rock (The Police’s “Don’t Stand So Close To Me”) to classic oldies (The Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations”). Despite the rigorousness, some might say bordering on pedantry, of Yacht Or Nyacht’s definitions, I admire their commitment to refining and preserving the core essence of their creation. However, as a listener, my personal tastes lean less towards strictly defined Yacht Rock and more towards a broader spectrum of adult contemporary pop from the same era – particularly studio-crafted recordings made predominantly without synthesizers. This broader aesthetic is precisely what guided me a decade ago when I curated my own “Ultimate Yacht Rock” playlist on Spotify. With ten years of further listening and reflection, I readily admit that my playlist includes songs that don’t adhere to the strict parameters set by Yacht Or Nyacht. But ultimately, with music this smooth and pleasurable, perhaps a looser, more inclusive approach is perfectly acceptable. Pleasure, after all, should be paramount.
