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New Statesman
7 hours ago
- Entertainment
- New Statesman
The genius of Brian Wilson
When David Bowie died in January 2016, much of the British media – which, by that point, was largely run by those who had grown up in his pop-cultural shadow – sank into that specific sort of mourning only fans are capable of: deeply felt, self-reflexive, nostalgic for what a stranger had brought into their lives. This included the New Statesman, where I was a staffer at the time. After the news broke, our focus in the office pivoted abruptly from whatever internal Labour Party matter was on the editorial planner (probably anti-Corbyn resignations) to Bowie's music, his persona, his influence not only on pop and rock but on the worldviews of generations. He became our cover story. It's hard to imagine the death of someone like the Beach Boys co-founder Brian Wilson, who passed away this week, receiving similar treatment outside the music press, even though he was once by far a bigger star than Bowie. That's understandable, in a way. The Beach Boys, a phenomenon in their long-ago prime, have for years been maligned with a reputation for being the antithesis of cool. They were America's biggest-selling and perhaps most acclaimed rock'n'roll group of the early-to-mid-1960s, whose chamber-pop masterpiece Pet Sounds still lurks near the top of countless 'greatest albums of all time' lists. (It has been at second place on Rolling Stone's for decades.) Yet, by the early 1970s, they were largely dismissed as burn-outs, eclipsed by more overtly introspective singer-songwriters, harder-edged bands such as The Doors and awesome hit-makers from the fast-evolving soul and disco scenes. If they prematurely turned into old news, a hangover from the past, it was perhaps because they had once helped to define an era, and that era was over. In effervescent songs such as 1963's 'Surfer Girl' and 'Little Deuce Coupe', they had not only reflected Californian preoccupations with surfing and cars but had also turned them into symbols of a very American fantasy of postwar freedom. Even their more personal pieces, such as 1965's 'Please Let Me Wonder', with its chorus that so perfectly captures the hopeful uncertainty of young love, had sold the decadence of an increasingly wealthy, ascendant America that could offer its people the precious luxury of introspection. The fraught, more paranoid decade that followed, which in the US probably began in earnest with the Watergate scandal in 1972, brought a new cynicism that made the innocent promises made by these teenage symphonies feel all of a sudden hollow, at least to many. The US mainstream eventually re-embraced the Beach Boys and, under co-founder Mike Love's stewardship, the group came to embody a kind of proto-normcore conformism. They never quite reclaimed coolness. In 1983, Ronald Reagan's then interior secretary, James Watt, nixed the band's Independence Day gig at the National Mall in Washington, DC, citing fears that rock music would attract 'the wrong element'. George HW Bush, who was vice-president at the time, personally intervened and forced Watt to apologise. The Beach Boys were friends, after all. In 2020, a later incarnation of the group accepted a booking to play at a hunting group event at which Donald Trump Jr was a scheduled speaker. Lame. None of this, of course, was Brian Wilson's doing. The genius behind the Beach Boys, who wrote, produced and orchestrated the band's most enduring records, had stepped back from his role as band leader as his mental health deteriorated, while working on what was intended to be Pet Sounds' follow-up, Smile. The increasingly strung-out Wilson abandoned that project in 1967, and his time at the top, competing with the likes of Paul McCartney, effectively came to an end. But his talent remained. In his more lucid moments, it would emerge in songs such as the haunting 1971 Beach Boys track ''Til I Die' and albums including his weird-and-wonderful 1995 Van Dyke Parks collaboration Orange Crate Art. Best of all was 1977's The Beach Boys Love You, a surprisingly lo-fi synth-pop record featuring songs about the solar system and 'honkin' down the gosh-darn highway'. In its own style, it's an equal of Pet Sounds or Smile, which itself was finally completed in 2004 as a solo album. Wilson's sad, well-documented struggles following his mental collapse had the effect of insulating him from Love's tarnishing of the Beach Boys brand, and critics have admitted the best of his work into the US rock canon. But his music is all too often afforded a different kind of appreciation to what Bowie's, say, or Bob Dylan's work enjoys. Where those singer-songwriters are considered heroes of their own creative destinies, Wilson has long been spoken of by many as a sort of victim of his own wild imagination, talent and mind – a savant, rather than a true master. In the studio as a young man, though, he was 'in charge of it all', as the session player Carol Kaye once recalled. And I don't think he ever lost that capacity to expertly make us feel and fantasise, and let us wonder. Like the most accomplished of his peers, he shaped our worldviews, in his case crafting a vision of a more playful, gentler America that should and could still exist. In these pretty dark times, surely there's not much cooler than that. [See also: Addison Rae and the art of AgitPop] Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe Related
Express Tribune
19 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Express Tribune
Brian Wilson of Beach Boys dies aged 82
Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys co-founder who masterminded the group's wild popularity and soundtracked the California dream, has died, his family announced on Wednesday, as reported by AFP. He was 82. The statement on Instagram did not give a cause. Wilson was placed under a legal conservatorship last year due to a "major neurocognitive disorder." "We are at a loss for words right now," said his family. "We realize that we are sharing our grief with the world." The pop visionary crafted hits whose success rivaled The Beatles throughout the 1960s, a seemingly inexhaustible string of feel-good tracks including Surfin' USA, I Get Around, Fun, Fun, Fun and Surfer Girl that made the Beach Boys into America's biggest selling band. Wilson didn't surf, but his prodigious pen and genius ear allowed him to fashion a boundary-pushing soundscape of beachside paradise. His lush productions were revered among his peers, with even Bob Dylan once saying, "That ear – I mean, Jesus, he's got to will that to the Smithsonian!" Dylan also paid tribute to Wilson on Wednesday, posting on X "about all the years I've been listening to him and admiring his genius. Rest in peace dear Brian." After five years of extraordinary songwriting, in which he produced 200 odes to sun, surfing and suntanned girls, Wilson sank into a deep, drug-fuelled depression for decades. He would emerge 35 years later to complete the Beach Boys' unfinished album, Smile – widely regarded as his masterpiece. John Lennon said he considered Pet Sounds (1966) to be one of the best albums of all time, while Paul McCartney said Wilson was a "genius". The musician's many accolades included a Kennedy Center Honor in 2007, when the committee dubbed him "rock and roll's gentlest revolutionary." "There is real humanity in his body of work," they said, "vulnerable and sincere, authentic and unmistakably American."
Economist
21 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Economist
Brian Wilson and the bliss of bubble-gum pop
CLEAN-CUT, SMILING, wholesome—the Beach Boys ruled the American airwaves in the early 1960s. Their music was as sunny as a Southern California morning: easy to sing along to, but underlaid by complex harmonies and instrumentation that reward relistening. Brian Wilson—who died on June 11th, aged 82—was one of three brothers in the group and wrote most of their songs. Bob Dylan joked that he should 'will [his ear] to the Smithsonian' and Paul McCartney called 'Pet Sounds', the band's baroque masterpiece, his favourite album. Here are five essential tracks. 'Surfer Girl' The pining ('Do you love me? Do you, surfer girl'), extravagant promises ('I will make your dreams come true') and gently modulated harmonies make the Beach Boys sound like the coolest doo-wop group on the quad. Anyone who listens closely to the spiky guitar in the middle section and the wailing vocals at the end will hear a group that both embraced and winked at convention.
Edmonton Journal
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Edmonton Journal
Brian Wilson, singer-songwriter who created the Beach Boys, dies at 82
Article content They would make the Billboard Top 40 list 36 times in as many years, a tally unequaled by an American band. While each member contributed to the Beach Boys' signature angelic vocal harmonics, Mr. Wilson was the widely acknowledged mastermind behind their music. A spectacularly imaginative songwriter, he was responsible for initial successes including Surfin' USA, Surfer Girl, I Get Around, All Summer Long, Don't Worry Baby, The Warmth of the Sun and California Girls. Such numbers evoked the joys of hot-rodding under boundlessly blue skies and, above all, the bronzed, bikinied lifestyle of Southern California.
Business Recorder
a day ago
- Entertainment
- Business Recorder
Beach Boy Brian Wilson, surf rock poet, dies at 82
NEW YORK: Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys co-founder who masterminded the group's wild popularity and soundtracked the California dream, has died, his family announced Wednesday. He was 82. The statement on Instagram did not give a cause. Wilson was placed under a legal conservatorship last year due to a 'major neurocognitive disorder.' 'We are at a loss for words right now,' said his family. 'We realize that we are sharing our grief with the world.' The pop visionary crafted hits whose success rivaled The Beatles throughout the 1960s, a seemingly inexhaustible string of feel-good tracks including 'Surfin' USA,' 'I Get Around,' 'Fun, Fun, Fun' and 'Surfer Girl' that made the Beach Boys into America's biggest selling band. Wilson didn't surf but his prodigious pen and genius ear allowed him to fashion the boundary-pushing soundscape of beachside paradise. His lush productions were revered among his peers, with even Bob Dylan once telling Newsweek: 'That ear – I mean, Jesus, he's got to will that to the Smithsonian!' But after five years of extraordinary songwriting, in which he produced 200 odes to sun, surfing and suntanned girls, Wilson sank into a deep, drug-fueled depression for decades. He would emerge 35 years later to complete the Beach Boys' unfinished album, 'Smile' – widely regarded as his masterpiece. 'Surfin' USA' John Lennon said he considered 'Pet Sounds' (1966) to be one of the best albums of all time, while Paul McCartney said Wilson was a 'genius' – who reduced him to tears with one song from the album, 'God Only Knows,' which Wilson wrote in 45 minutes. Its melancholic depths hinted at Wilson's own painful secret. Born on June 20, 1942 in a Los Angeles suburb, Wilson found music as a haven of safety and joy after an upbringing in which he suffered abuse from his domineering father, who would go on to manage the group. Music was his protection, and The Beach Boys was a family affair: he formed the band with his two brothers Dennis and Carl, his cousin Mike Love and neighbor Al Jardine. Wilson did all the songwriting, arranging and sang and played bass guitar; his bandmates just had to sing in harmony. Their first song 'Surfin,' in 1961, was a loose prototype for the unique sound that would become their signature, a fusion of the rock styles of Chuck Berry and Little Richard with the preppy vocal harmonies of 'The Four Freshmen.' By late 1962, there was hardly a teen who did not know them thanks to the eternal ode to youthful nonchalance, 'Surfin' USA.' Lost youth But Wilson was ill at ease on stage and did not like recording studios. In 1964 he had a panic attack on a plane to France, after which he stopped touring. He was deaf in his right ear and his mouth sagged when he sang – the result of the many beatings he received from his father. 'It was tough. My dad was quite the slave driver,' Wilson told Rolling Stone magazine in 2018. 'He made us mow the lawn and when we were done, he'd say, 'Mow it again.' The Beach Boys' early songs spoke of simple joys and innocence. But Wilson's writing became darker as he began to eulogize lost youth. He channeled the group towards the more psychedelic rock central to the hippie culture taking hold in California. In 1966 he brought out 'Good Vibrations,' a song recorded in four different studios that consumed over 90 hours of tape and included multiple keys, textures, moods and instrumentations. The single topped the charts and sold one million copies in the United States, but Wilson was at the brink. In 1967, his mental health deteriorated, worn down by his enormous workload and his wild consumption of drugs. He abandoned 'Smile,' planted his grand piano in a sandbox, and took vast quantities of LSD and acid. Eventually diagnosed as schizophrenic, Wilson began hearing voices and thought the famed 'Wall of Sound' producer Phil Spector was spying on him and stealing his work. The group eventually parted ways. 'Gentlest revolutionary' The troubled artist had long stints of rehab and relapses as well as legal issues including a lengthy, eyebrow-raising relationship with a controlling psychotherapist who was eventually blocked by a court order from contact with Wilson. The artist credits his marriage to former model Melinda Ledbetter as helping him to rebuild his life. He revived and finished 'Smile,' releasing it in 2004. His brother Dennis drowned in 1983, while Carl died of cancer in 1998. Last year Wilson's family successfully pursued a legal conservatorship following the death of Melinda, with his longtime manager and publicist being put in charge of his affairs. Wilson's seven children were consulted by the conservators regarding major health decisions as a stipulation of the agreement. The musician's many accolades included a Kennedy Center Honor in 2007, when that committee dubbed him 'rock and roll's gentlest revolutionary.' 'There is real humanity in his body of work,' they said, 'vulnerable and sincere, authentic and unmistakably American.'
