This classic ’60s rock & roll single by surf music pioneers Jan and Dean recalls not only the Beach Boys, but the bygone era of American Graffiti muscle cars, and even the tragic, so-called “disaster songs” from this time period, such as “Last Kiss (Where, oh Where Can my Baby Be?)” The narrator witnesses a death for which he is partly responsible, and, while he himself survives, he knows that there is no coming back.
I was cruisin’ in my Sting Ray late one night
When an XKE pulled up on the right
And rolled down the window of his shiny new Jag
And challenged me then and there to a drag
I said, “You’re on, buddy, my mill’s runnin’ fine
Let’s come off the line now, at Sunset and Vine
But I’ll throw you one better if you’ve got the nerve
Let’s race all the way
To Dead Man’s Curve”
Dead Man’s Curve, it’s no place to play
Dead Man’s Curve, you best keep away
Dead Man’s Curve, I can hear ’em say
Won’t come back from Dead Man’s Curve
The street was deserted late Friday night
We were buggin’ each other while we sat out the light
We both popped the clutch when the light turned green
You should of heard the whine from my screamin’ machine
I flew past LaBrea, Schwab’s, and Crescent Heights
And all the Jag could see were my six tail lights
He passed me at Doheny then I started to swerve
But I pulled her out and there we were
At Dead Man’s Curve
Dead Man’s Curve, it’s no place to play
Dead Man’s Curve
Well, the last thing I remember, Doc, I started to swerve
And then I saw the Jag slide into the curve
I know I’ll never forget that horrible sight
I guess I found out for myself that everyone was right
Won’t come back from Dead Man’s Curve
Dead Man’s Curve, it’s no place to play
Dead Man’s Curve, you best keep away
Dead Man’s Curve, I can hear ’em say
Won’t come back from Dead Man’s Curve