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Hamilton Spectator
18-07-2025
- Hamilton Spectator
I took my overactive mind to the stress-free island of Aruba for a wellness reset
The first thing I notice about Aruba is the weather. The ever-present breeze means the searing heat, 30C on most days, is never uncomfortable. I return to this feeling throughout my stay on the tiny Caribbean island: Everything about this place is … effortless. There's no racing for pool loungers at 5 a.m. (Aruba isn't brimming with all-inclusive resorts, which are known for the early-morning rush.) I don't encounter aggressive insects trying to devour me nightly. And there's little risk of scary storms: Located less than 30 kilometres north of Venezuela, the island is outside the hurricane belt, so the weather is lovely year-round. I'm in Aruba for a wellness-themed press trip, with the hope of being more present and mindful, and it takes almost no time before I'm reaching for a book instead of my iPhone. When our plane touches down, the flight attendant announces, 'We've just landed in Aruba where the time is … oh, who cares, you're on island time now.' This, I soon discover, is practically a mantra for the decidedly relaxed former Dutch colony. In Aruba, there's an ever-present breeze. Constant trade winds shape the trunks and branches of Divi Divi and Fofoti trees, which are famous emblems of the island. Less than an hour after we stop on the tarmac, I'm already sitting on my balcony at the Ritz-Carlton Aruba. It turns out you can drive from one tip of the island to the other in about 45 minutes, and everything on our itinerary is within 20 minutes of the hotel. The goal of this trip is to experience Aruba's stress-free nature, which feels incredibly straightforward to do. I knew little about Aruba prior to this trip, aside from the part of my brain occupied by the Beach Boys' lyric 'Aruba, Jamaica, oooooh, I wanna take ya …' I soon learn that the locals on the island, a constituent country of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, are kind and warm. They call each other and visitors 'Dushi,' a word in Papiamento (a Creole language) that loosely translates to 'sweetie.' I hear it often — I'm 'Dushi' when ordering a honey-cinnamon coffee frappe at a café, sitting in a beach lounger or just squeezing past a stranger on the sidewalk. The first activity on our agenda introduces us to one of Aruba's main exports: skin-soothing aloe vera. Royal Aruba Aloe , one of the world's oldest aloe companies, is based on the island, where it runs a factory and museum offering free tours, as well as DIY scrub workshops at hotels like ours. We learn how to 'filet' a spear-shaped leaf just as their workers do, to extract the healing gel. Into a body scrub base of aloe and coconut oil, we stir in our choice of exfoliating coffee, oats or coconut husk, while sipping flutes of bubbly, an aperitif before our sunset dinner right on the beach. It all feels simultaneously laid-back and luxurious, just the way I like it. One of the cabanas at the Ritz-Carlton Aruba. My most unforgettable experiences on the island, however, are often at the hands of local healers and mindfulness experts. One morning, holistic therapist and yogi Janine Valecillos Digier of Natura Holistic Aruba takes us through a meditation, energy healing and sound bath session on an empty beach in Savaneta. I can be a bit squirmy during anything resembling meditation, but Digier's kind presence and gentle but powerful touch helps me chill out. 'It's not easy to tell our minds to let go of control, and it's crucial that each participant has their own experience,' says Digier, as she explains how she uses touch to calm the mind and allow the body to enter into a state of active listening. 'It's completely OK to move or feel restless — this is often your body's way of processing and releasing stored energy.' Digier coaxes us to meet ourselves with compassion and without judgment, as I apologize post-session for my restless legs (how Canadian). 'Try anchoring your focus on the rhythm of your inhalation and exhalation, or on the sounds guiding the session,' she adds. 'Relaxation is a practice, not a destination.' The serene setting helps. We're facing the ocean, lying on blankets and pillows under a mangrove tree dotted with wind chimes. We finish our guided meditation with a swim at Mangel Halto, where we find an unspoiled turquoise lagoon framed by mangroves and coral. Mangel Halto is a small, secluded beach popular for snorkelling. The next morning at 6:45 a.m., we're at the white-sand Eagle Beach for a mindfulness walk with Shanti Augusta , a wellness guide and enlightenment teacher. I'm not sure what to expect (can't I … walk without a guide?), but this is just my North American cynicism talking. I let myself get immersed in Augusta's grounding meditation and her signature FLOW mindfulness method, a sensory technique designed to be used while strolling. 'FLOW is an acronym that stands for feeling, listening, observing and welcoming the whole experience,' says Augusta. 'Our senses are the portal to the here and now.' She's right. Focusing on what I feel (bare feet on soft sand and the occasional seashell), hear (birds squawking) and see (infinite shades of blue in the sea and sky) helps quiet the to-do list always rattling around my brain. We close out the beach walk with a simple but profound gratitude practice that has us picking up five items off the seashore and identifying five things we're grateful for. Augusta encourages us to get as specific as we can, so we can truly, deeply feel it. Think: 'I'm grateful for the long phone call I had with my best friend this morning,' and not just 'I'm grateful for my friends.' Augusta calls gratitude 'medicine for the heart,' which is a sweet way of thinking about how healing it can be to recognize the blessings in your life. 'The feeling of gratitude neutralizes anxiety. It is a natural uplifter and stress reliever.' We share our gratitude with the group, then place our little talismans in a sort of makeshift shrine. I have my phone in my pocket, just in case I want to take photos — but it stays mostly tucked away as I enjoy the moment. When we leave the beach, my stomach growls and I realize I have no clue whether it's 8 a.m. or noon. How's that for island time? How to get there: WestJet operates direct flights from Toronto to Aruba (about five hours). Where to stay: The Ritz-Carlton Aruba , set on a peaceful stretch of Palm Beach, is the epitome of relaxed luxury. Some of the 320 guest rooms and 55 suites overlook the Caribbean Sea, and there's a sprawling spa; try the 80-minute Divi Divi massage, which uses oil derived from the iconic Divi Divi tree, a symbol of Aruba. Where to dine: In Oranjestad, a harbour city full of boutiques and museums, Taste My Aruba is a lovely, cosy dinner option that serves up an ever-changing seafood-focused menu. Don't miss the catch of the day or fried appetizers, like the polenta sticks and mozzarella balls. In Palm Beach, Eduardo's Beach Shack is the perfect casual spot for a smoothie bowl or light lunch. The vegan quesadillas are particularly delicious, as is the fresh Ocean juice, a turquoise tonic of pineapple, lemon and blue spirulina. What else to do: Take a sailing trip along the coastline and snorkel in clear waters near coral reefs, or book a private group art class with self-taught painter Indra Zievinger in the garden sanctuary of her family home. When she isn't guiding your technique (while calling you 'Dushi,' of course), she'll share stories of living on several Caribbean islands with her chef husband and their children. Spoiler: She loves Aruba best. Jennifer Berry travelled as a guest of the Aruba Tourism Authority, which did not review or approve this article.
Glasgow Times
09-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Glasgow Times
'Bewitching' LA singer-songwriter to perform live in Glasgow
Jessica Pratt will play at Saint Luke's on Monday, July 14. The musician, who is known for her 'bewitching' acoustic guitar and vocals, will present her new album, Here in the Pitch, to Scottish fans. This is her fourth album, which was released after a five-year hiatus. From the opening seconds of "Life Is", the album promises to be a unique musical experience. The album begins with a percussion roll, a departure from the usual blend of her vocals and guitar. Ms Pratt said: "In a way, it's kind of a false flag. "But I also feel like it's a statement of intention." READ MORE: 'I hear I got a mention': John Swinney responds to Kneecap Her team for this project included multi-instrumentalist and engineer Al Carlson, keyboardist Matt McDermott, bassist Spencer Zahn, and percussionist Mauro Refosco. Discussing her new venture, Ms Pratt said: "Having done a studio record prior, I learned how to get to the things you want and how to communicate it to people. "The process this time was less about exploration of a new tool and more about taking what I learned and going further." She introduces a diverse range of instruments, including timpani and glockenspiel, baritone saxophone and flute. This is complemented by layered vocal arrangements that deliver an uplifting mood, even in the face of melancholic lyrics. Her inspiration for the album came from the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds, but she was particularly drawn to the "atmospheric silence" in those recordings. Describing her fascination, she explained: "There are times when you feel like you're just hearing the studio for a moment. "Those were always so intriguing for me as a young person, feeling like you could reach out and touch the texture of the sound in the air." Tickets for her Glasgow show are available online. READ MORE: Scots comedian and Hollywood star join forces as iconic series returns The album explores the darker side of the Californian dream, drawing inspiration from Los Angeles' seedy history and the bleak end of the hippy era. Ms Pratt confessed: "I spend a lot of time worrying and imagining bad things happening. "So maybe the idea of creatively inhabiting a character who wields the power is interesting." The final track The Last Year is reminiscent of classic compositions from the Great American Songbook. The "pitch" in Here in the Pitch refers to both "pitch darkness" and bitumen, a black viscous substance found deep in the earth. Despite the dark undertones, Ms Pratt's optimism shines through in her performance. She explained the album's long creation process: "I never wanted it to take this long. "I'm just a real perfectionist. "I was just trying to get the right feeling, and it takes a long time to do that."
26-06-2025
- Entertainment
Music history is littered with projects planned, anticipated, even completed — and then scrapped
NEW YORK -- The idea that Bruce Springsteen wrote, recorded and ultimately shelved entire albums of music may seem odd to the casual listener. Why put yourself through all that work for nothing? Yet 'lost albums' are embedded in music industry lore. Some were literally lost. Some remained unfinished or unreleased because of tragedy, shortsighted executives or creators who were perfectionist — or had short attention spans. Often, the music is eventually made public, like Springsteen is doing now, although out of context from the times in which it was originally made. So in honor of Springsteen's 83-song 'Tracks II: The Lost Albums' box set being released Friday, The Associated Press has collected 10 examples of albums that were meant to be but weren't. Back in the news with the death of Brian Wilson, this album 'invented the category of the lost masterpiece in popular music,' says Anthony DeCurtis, contributing editor at Rolling Stone. Some of the material that surfaced suggested Wilson, the Beach Boys' chief writer, was well on his way: the majestic single 'Good Vibrations,' the centerpiece 'Heroes and Villains' and the reflective 'Surf's Up.' Wilson succumbed to internal competitive pressure worsened by mental illness and drug abuse while making it in 1966 and 1967, eventually aborting the project. He later finished it as a solo album backed by the Wondermints in 2004. The better-known songs were joined with some psychedelic-era curios that displayed Wilson's melodic sense and matchless ability as a vocal arranger, along with lyrics that some fellow Beach Boys worried were too 'out there.' The mercurial Prince pulled back this disc, set for release in December 1987, at the last minute. Some promo copies had already slipped out, and it was so widely bootlegged that when Warner Bros. officially put it out in limited release in 1994, the company billed it as 'The Legendary Black Album.' Encased in an all-black sleeve, the project was said to be Prince's nod to Black fans who may have felt they had lost him to a pop audience. It's almost nonstop funk, including a lascivious Cindy Crawford tribute and the workout 'Superfunkycalifragisexy.' The maestro's instincts were well-placed, though. Coming after 'Sign O' the Times' — arguably his peak — this would have felt like a minor project. Written and recorded in 2003, Green Day's 'Cigarettes and Valentines' was actually lost; someone apparently stole the master tapes. Feeling on a creative roll, the rock trio decided against recreating what they'd done and pressed on with new material. Smart move. The result was 'American Idiot,' the band's best work. Perhaps the robbery was 'just a sign that we made a crappy record and we should make a better one,' songwriter Billie Joe Armstrong told MTV. The title cut later surfaced on a 2010 live album. The rest was lost to time. To say anticipation was high for Dr. Dre's third album when he started recording in 2002 puts it mildly. The theme disc about a hitman, which Dre described as a 'hip-hop musical,' had an all-star squad of contributors including Eminem, 50 Cent, Mary J. Blige, Busta Rhymes and Kendrick Lamar. 'I'd describe it as the most advanced rap album musically and lyrically we'll probably ever have a chance to listen to,' co-producer Scott Storch told MTV. But we never have. When he announced a different third album in 2015, Dre explained on his radio show what happened to 'Detox': 'I didn't like it. It wasn't good. ... I worked my ass off on it, and I don't think I did a good enough job.' A series of unfinished demos, 'Black Gold' was a taste of where guitar god Jimi Hendrix might have gone creatively if he hadn't died at 27 in 1970. He was composing a song suite about an animated Black superhero, says Tom Maxwell, whose podcast 'Shelved' unearths stories behind lost music. Hendrix sent a tape of his work to longtime drummer Mitch Mitchell for advice on fleshing it out. That music was set aside at Mitchell's home and forgotten for two decades after Hendrix died. To date, Hendrix's estate has made only one of these recordings public, a song called 'Suddenly November Morning.' Hendrix, after clearing his throat, slips in and out of falsetto while accompanying himself on an acoustic guitar. Written while Yoko Ono was separated from John Lennon during his infamous 'lost weekend' in 1973-74, 'A Story' had the potential of changing the musical narrative around her. It was a strong album — without the avant-garde stylings that made Ono a challenge for mainstream listeners — recorded with musicians who worked on Lennon's 'Walls & Bridges.' Maxwell calls it 'an emancipation manifesto' that was set aside when Ono reconciled with Lennon. She's never publicly explained why, Maxwell says, although one song seems clearly about an affair she had while Lennon was away. Some of the material from 'A Story' was included as part of the 'Onobox' project that came out in 1992, and the album was released separately in 1997. Ono also re-recorded some of its songs in 1980, and Lennon was holding a tape of her composition 'It Happened' when he was shot and killed. In it, she sings about an unspecified, seemingly traumatic event: 'It happened at a time of my life when I least expected.' That wasn't even the most chilling premonition. Her song 'O'Oh' ended with firecrackers that sound like gunshots. It was left off the 1997 release. Guns N' Roses was at the top of the hard rock world when they began recording a new album in 1994. It didn't go well. Inconclusive sessions slogged on for years, and all but singer Axl Rose left the group. Recording costs exceeded a staggering $13 million, by some accounts the most expensive rock album ever. One witness told The New York Times in 2005: 'What Axl wanted to do was to make the best record that had ever been made. It's an impossible task. You could go on indefinitely, which is what they've done.' When 'Chinese Democracy' was finally released in 2008, the world yawned. Not even a decade after the triumph of 'What's Going On,' Marvin Gaye was floundering. His 'Here, My Dear' divorce album flopped, he struggled with drugs and searched for relevance in the disco era. The single 'Ego Tripping Out,' meant to herald a new album, laid bare the problems: Over a melody cribbed from Donna Summer's 'Hot Stuff,' the famously cool 'Love Man' boasted like an insecure rapper. He scrapped the album, repurposing some its material for the 1981 disc 'In Our Lifetime,' a process so fraught he bitterly left his longtime label Motown. Gaye went to CBS, made a huge comeback with 'Sexual Healing,' then was shot dead by his father in 1984. Neil Young rivals Prince in the volume of material left in his vault, and he's been systematically releasing much of it. The mostly acoustic 'Homegrown' was recorded as 1974 bled into 1975, during Young's breakup with actor Carrie Snodgress. Instead of releasing it in 1975, he put out another heartbreak album, the well-regarded 'Tonight's the Night,' about losing friends to drug abuse. When Young finally dropped 'Homegrown' in 2020, he wrote in his blog, 'Sometimes life hurts. This is the one that got away.' Of the discs included in Springsteen's 'Tracks II' set, this was reportedly the closest to being released, in the spring of 1995. After the success of the Oscar-winning song 'Streets of Philadelphia,' Springsteen recorded an album in the same vein, with a synthesizer and West Coast rap-inspired drum loops setting the musical motif. Strikingly contemporary for its time, Springsteen ultimately felt it was too similar to previous releases dominated by dark stories about relationships. 'I always put them away,' he said of his lost albums. 'But I don't throw them away.'
NZ Herald
20-06-2025
- Entertainment
- NZ Herald
West Coast wizards: How Brian Wilson and Sly Stone's scored the California dream
Brian Wilson and, left, Sly Stone: Legacies endure long after the sun set on their vision. Photos / Getty Images The late Brian Wilson and Sly Stone embodied the different places in the Golden State's musical geography and history. As news helicopters swirled overhead, demonstrators and troops faced off and smoke rose over Los Angeles, California became the focus of world attention this month. It seemed bleakly ironic that two musicians who helped define the promise and dream of the Golden State should die within days of each other. In very different ways, Brian Wilson and Sly Stone, both 82, had shaped popular culture's view of California through the lens of sun, surf, psychedelia and unity. Wilson's world was initially one of blonde surfer girls and hot rods: his music on songs like Surfin' USA a clever amalgamation of Chuck Berry's storytelling rock'n'roll, doo-wop and close harmony groups such as the Four Freshmen. I Get Around and California Girls distilled teenage sentiments and dreams into little more than two minutes. Although the Beach Boys' first three albums had 'surf' in their titles (their fourth celebrated hot rods on Little Deuce Coup), Wilson's writing also offered evocative, inward-looking miniatures with sophisticated arrangements like the slow Surfer Girl and especially the prescient In My Room: 'There's a world I can go and tell my secrets to.' Within a few years he would write I Wasn't Made For These Times and the sublime God Only Knows (one of Paul McCartney's favourite songs) for the Pet Sounds album (1966). He brought a musical intelligence to pop arrangements and writing that hadn't been heard before. Wilson painted in delicate colours of sound and Good Vibrations – still a remarkable piece of work – evoked a mystical state of promise, summer breezes and the warmth of the sun. Wilson's music – described as 'baroque pop' or 'cosmic' – could only have come from California. Sly Stone in concert in 1973. Photo / Getty Images Like Wilson, multi-instrumentalist Sly Stone (born Sylvester Stewart in Texas) was a product of his influences. He'd grown up with gospel, and as a young radio DJ in San Francisco, added music of the British Invasion (Beatles, Stones, etc) to the soul station's playlists. He produced white pop and rock bands (among them the Invasion-influenced Beau Brummels and pop star Bobby Freeman) and played on numerous sessions (Ronettes, Marvin Gaye, Righteous Brothers). By the time he formed his Family Stone band in 1967 he could draw from a deep well of musical ideas. He also had an inclusive vision: the band was uniquely integrated – black, white, men and women – playing psychedelic soul, funk and rock. The album titles were announcements: their debut was A Whole New Thing. The title track of its follow-up, Dance to the Music, delivered their first chart hit. With bassist Larry Graham (rapper Drake's uncle) they had a funkmaster on hand for hits like Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin). If Sly gave us a celebratory, psychedelic funk and politically progressive soul that influenced everyone from Miles Davis, George Clinton and Prince to Andre 3000, Wilson's journey was more inward. By the time Sly and the Family Stone emerged, Wilson had already retreated after a string of polished pop hits and the seminal Pet Sounds album, with session musicians on songs that rarely required the Beach Boys other than for vocal parts. No longer a member of the band in live appearances, Wilson's home was the studio where he created intricate music of layered harmonies and meticulous arrangements well beyond anything in the pop canon at the time. Pet Sounds shook McCartney into exploring the studio's possibilities more, hence Revolver then their orchestrated Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band in 1967. Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band was influenced by Brian Wilson's Pet Sounds. Photo / Supplied Wilson was hailed as a genius. But drugs exacerbated his mental instability. He had a breakdown while trying to complete his SMiLE album in 1967. His country appeared to have a breakdown, too. The multicoloured Summer of Love – soundtracked by Good Vibrations and Dance to the Music – collapsed and gave way to a rapid downward spiral: the assassinations of Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy in 1968, cocaine and heroin, the Manson Family, Black Panthers, Weathermen, Symbionese Liberation Army, anti-war protests, body bags coming in from Vietnam, the National Guard killing four students during a demonstration at Ohio's Kent State University … The Beach Boys released the acclaimed Surf's Up album (1971) with Wilson's sombre 'Til I Die and the title track masterpiece. Surprisingly for a band not known for any political stance other than vague patriotism, it also included Student Demonstration Time: 'The winds of change fanned into flames … the pen is mightier than the sword, but no match for a gun.' It was a timely rewrite of Leiber-Stoller's Riot in Cell Block #9 by the band's singer, Mike Love. The hook in both songs is 'there's a riot goin' on', coincidentally the title of the Sly and the Family Stone album later that year. It was Stone's reply to Marvin Gaye's world-weary classic What's Going On of a few months before. By this time, Stone was in a fug of drugs, his music becoming slower, darker and more claustrophobic. Like Wilson, Stone had gone inward: Just Like a Baby is a deep stoner groove, Luv n' Haight captured his inertia. 'Feel so good inside myself, don't need to move. As I grow up, I'm growing down.' On Poet, he is resigned: 'My only weapon is my pen and the frame of mind I'm in.' It was exceptional but different from his previous music, however, it captured the zeitgeist. Stone's descent is as well documented as Wilson's. Nevertheless, he left an enduring legacy of innovative soul, funk and rock in songs like Dance to the Music, Everyday People and I Want to Take You Higher (from 1969's political-funk album Stand!), which had its apotheosis at Woodstock. Wilson's music following his golden period was uneven but detailed, sometimes glowing and personal. The Last Song (2015) was moving: 'Don't be sad. There was a time and place for what we had. If there was just another chance for me to sing to you …' But that time and place was long the mid 1970s, the sun had set on the vision of California the songs of Brian Wilson and Sly Stone seemed to promise. Yet even now, despite recent events, their music can still be transporting.
The Wire
15-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Wire
How Visionary Beach Boys Songwriter Brian Wilson Changed Music
Menu हिंदी తెలుగు اردو Home Politics Economy World Security Law Science Society Culture Editor's Pick Opinion Support independent journalism. Donate Now World How Visionary Beach Boys Songwriter Brian Wilson Changed Music – and My Life Jadey O'Regan 39 minutes ago Brian Wilson's passing on June 11 marks the end of a long and extraordinary chapter in musical history. Brian Wilson at a Beach Boys reunion in New Orleans. Photo: Takahiro Kyono/Wikimedia Commons/CC BY 2.0. Real journalism holds power accountable Since 2015, The Wire has done just that. But we can continue only with your support. Contribute now Brian Wilson, leader, songwriter and producer of the Beach Boys, has passed away at age 82. He leaves behind a legacy of beautiful, joyous, bittersweet and enduring music, crafted over a career spanning six decades. While this news isn't unexpected – Wilson was diagnosed with dementia last year and entered a conservatorship after the loss of his wife, Melinda – his passing marks the end of a long and extraordinary chapter in musical history. A life of music Formed in the early 1960s in Hawthorne, California, the Beach Boys were built on a foundation of family and community: brothers Brian, Dennis and Carl Wilson, their cousin Mike Love and school friend Al Jardine. Growing up, the Wilson household was a turbulent place; their father, Murry Wilson, was strict and at times violent. Music was the one way in which the family could connect. During these early years Brian discovered the sounds that would shape his musical identity: Gershwin, doo wop groups, early rock and roll and, a particular favourite, the vocal group the Four Freshmen, whose tight-harmony singing style Wilson studied meticulously. It was an unexpected combination of influences for a pop band. Even from the Beach Boys' earliest recordings – the surf, the cars, the girls – the stirrings of the complexity and musical adventurousness Wilson is known for is audible. Listen to the unexpected structure of ' The Lonely Sea ' (1962), the complex chords of ' The Warmth of the Sun ' (1963) or the subtle modulation in ' Don't Worry Baby ' (1964). These early innovations hinted at a growing creativity that would continue to evolve over the rest of the 1960s, and beyond. The Beach Boys perform at the Ed Sullivan show in 1964. Photo: Wikimedia Commons/Public domain. A story of resilience In later years, Brian Wilson often appeared publicly as a fragile figure. But what stands out most in his story is resilience. His ability to produce such an expansive and diverse catalogue of work while navigating difficult family relationships, intense record label pressures, misdiagnosed and mistreated mental health conditions, addiction and much more, is extraordinary. Wilson not only survived, but continued to create music. He eventually did something few Beach Boys' fans would have imagined – he returned to the stage. Wilson's unexpected return to public performance during the Pet Sounds and SMiLE tours in the early 2000s began a revival interest in the Beach Boys, and a critical reconsideration of their musical legacy. This continues with a consistent release of books, documentaries, movies and podcasts about Wilson and the legacy of the Beach Boys' music. The focus of a thesis I grew up near Surfers Paradise on the Gold Coast in Queensland. Their early songs about an endless summer had a particular resonance to my hometown, even if, like Brian Wilson, I only admired the beach from afar. I chose to study the Beach Boys' music for my PhD thesis and spent the next few years charting the course of their musical development from their early days in the garage to creating Pet Sounds just five years later. The Beach Boys at a 2012 performance. Photo: Louise Palanker/Wikimedia Commons/CC BY-SA 2.0. I was fascinated by how a band could create such a groundbreaking volume of work and progress so quickly from the delightful, yet wobbly 'Surfin' to the complex arrangements of 'God Only Knows'. To understand their music, I spent years listening to Beach Boys' tracking sessions, take after take, to hear how their songs were so cleverly and delicately put together. What struck me just as powerfully as the music itself was the sound of Brian Wilson's voice in those recordings. Listening to Wilson leading hours of tracking sessions was to hear an artist at the top of their game – decisive, confident, funny, collaborative and deeply driven to make music that would express the magic he heard in his mind, and connect with an audience. One of the more unexpected discoveries in my analysis of the Beach Boys' music came from their lyrics. Using a word frequency tool to examine all 117 songs in my study, I found that the most common word was 'now'. In many cases, it appears in a conversational sense – 'Well, she got her Daddy's car, and she cruised through the hamburger stand now ' – but on a broader level, it perfectly encapsulates what Brian Wilson's music offered so many listeners. He created an endless present: a world where the sun could always be shining, where you could feel young forever and you could visit that world any time you needed to. Jadey O'Regan with Brian Wilson, Enmore Theatre, Sydney 2010. Credit: Jadey O'Regan. In 2010, I had the remarkable experience of meeting Brian Wilson in his dressing room before his performance at the Enmore Theatre in Sydney. He was funny and kind. He sat at a small keyboard, taught me a harmony and for a moment, we sang ' Love and Mercy ' together. It was one of the most magical moments of my life. It is also one of Wilson's most enduring sentiments: 'love and mercy, that's what we need tonight'. Farewell and thank you, Brian. Surf's up. Jadey O'Regan, Senior Lecturer in Contemporary Music, Sydney Conservatorium of Music, University of Sydney This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article. The Wire is now on WhatsApp. Follow our channel for sharp analysis and opinions on the latest developments. 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