Brian Wilson, the principal songwriter, producer, and composer of The Beach Boys, has died.
From Pet Sounds to Smiley Smile, and from Surf’s Up to The Beach Boys Love You, it’s impossible to overstate how much Brian Wilson’s music has impacted me. He taught me that beauty can be strange, that vulnerability can be strength, and that even broken voices can still sing out in tune.
Like everyone, I grew up hearing The Beach Boys’ early hits wherever I went. Then came “Kokomo.” Still, it wasn’t until college that I really heard Brian Wilson. That’s when everything changed: I was holed up in my bedroom recording punk tracks with a pawnshop guitar when The Smile Sessions and Brian Wilson Presents Smile hit me like a pair of bricks. His intricate vocal stacks, unexpected chord inversions, idiosyncratic song structures, and the beautiful baroque grandeur of his pocket symphonies cracked something open. My gast was flabbered: I was completely blown away.
I don’t record much music anymore. Instead, I write here. As someone who has spent years grappling with mental illness myself, though, I still find solace in Brian Wilson’s powerful music. When I put on Orange Crate Art or That Lucky Old Sun, something shifts. Not everything, and not permanently, but enough. Often, it’s enough to remember I’m not alone. It’s enough to keep me going.
Brian Wilson kept going until he couldn’t anymore. He was eighty-two.
I saw the announcement and realized how little I know about him. Today I started a 19 hour audiobook about him and am eager to learn. I have always loved the music of the Beach Boys but have not really dug in. Now is the time.
I expect a report on your findings!