Post by iiwftn on Sept 24, 2023 11:33:22 GMT
As I’m sure you’ll be aware, Benny has occasionally cited ‘Pet Sounds’ as one of his favourite albums, and quite right too. Pet Sounds is one of those near-perfect albums where an incredibly talented singer-songwriter (Brian Wilson) hit his creative and artistic peak.
Wilson was able to channel his creativity with lyrical input from Tony Asher, and used Phil Spector’s famous Wrecking Crew to lay down the tracks, and required the other Beach Boys merely as harmonising backing singers (much to the bitterness of Mike Love).
This all took place of course against a backdrop Wilson’s deteriorating mental health, with pressure from his father selling him out, his creative differences with Mike Love and his disastrous relationship with LSD.
I find that one of the great ironies of Beach Boys history was that this, the ultimate all-American band, with their initial success with clean cut songs about teenage love, surfing and hot-rod cars was that they were firmly knocked off their perch with the arrival of the Beatles and the British Invasion of 1964. Yet instead of resenting this intrusion, it inspired Wilson to reach for greater heights, the Beatles album ‘Rubber Soul’ blowing Brian’s mind. And yet, when Brian produced Pet Sounds, whereas the rather square American market was lukewarm to the album, it was completely lauded in the UK; the very country that had sent the Beatles America’s way and critics here still consider it to be one of the all-time great albums.
There are so many great songs on Pet Sounds: Wouldn’t it be Nice, You Still Believe in Me, Don’t Talk (Put Your Head on my Shoulder), Sloop John B, God Only Knows, Caroline No etc. The music is so intricate, so introspective and incredibly melodic. I can even detect a little Sloop John B in Benny’s ‘Suzy-Hang-Around’.
For his follow up to Pet Sounds, Brian (further fuelled by LSD), wanted to reach even greater heights, with the ‘SMiLE’ album. This is course became part of rock folklore; a complex mesh of music symphony, abstract historic and earthy central themes, songs flitting in and out of each other, and an album that never was.
The sessions were legendary with strange experiments and bad trips leading to Wilson’s mental breakdown and onset of schizophrenia. The SMiLE album was part-pillaged and part shelved, not properly presented in its near-to-accurate form until rather staggeringly: 2011.
Yet like Pet Sounds, the SMiLE Sessions is mesmerising. ‘Heroes & Villains’, Cabin Essence, Surf’s Up, Wind Chimes, Mrs O’Leary’s Cow (Fire) and of course ending on its own ‘pocket symphony’: Good Vibrations. It is a stunningly good piece of work.
Wilson’s mental health deterioration in 1967 led to a power vacuum within the Beach Boys. Yes, there was the odd good song from time to time (‘Do it Again’, ‘Darlin’’ etc), but the Beach Boys eventually settled for becoming their own tribute act, a touring band of Hawaiian shirts that looked back with nostalgia, a far cry from the barrier-breaking days of Brian’s mid-60s genius.
Brian’s personal struggles throughout the decades have been well documented. He eventually became well enough (well, sort of), to continue touring again, but cut a rather tragic, terrified figure on stage. Now in his 80s, the touring has finally stopped and all that remains is a legacy that draws comparisons to the greats of rock music.
Wilson was able to channel his creativity with lyrical input from Tony Asher, and used Phil Spector’s famous Wrecking Crew to lay down the tracks, and required the other Beach Boys merely as harmonising backing singers (much to the bitterness of Mike Love).
This all took place of course against a backdrop Wilson’s deteriorating mental health, with pressure from his father selling him out, his creative differences with Mike Love and his disastrous relationship with LSD.
I find that one of the great ironies of Beach Boys history was that this, the ultimate all-American band, with their initial success with clean cut songs about teenage love, surfing and hot-rod cars was that they were firmly knocked off their perch with the arrival of the Beatles and the British Invasion of 1964. Yet instead of resenting this intrusion, it inspired Wilson to reach for greater heights, the Beatles album ‘Rubber Soul’ blowing Brian’s mind. And yet, when Brian produced Pet Sounds, whereas the rather square American market was lukewarm to the album, it was completely lauded in the UK; the very country that had sent the Beatles America’s way and critics here still consider it to be one of the all-time great albums.
There are so many great songs on Pet Sounds: Wouldn’t it be Nice, You Still Believe in Me, Don’t Talk (Put Your Head on my Shoulder), Sloop John B, God Only Knows, Caroline No etc. The music is so intricate, so introspective and incredibly melodic. I can even detect a little Sloop John B in Benny’s ‘Suzy-Hang-Around’.
For his follow up to Pet Sounds, Brian (further fuelled by LSD), wanted to reach even greater heights, with the ‘SMiLE’ album. This is course became part of rock folklore; a complex mesh of music symphony, abstract historic and earthy central themes, songs flitting in and out of each other, and an album that never was.
The sessions were legendary with strange experiments and bad trips leading to Wilson’s mental breakdown and onset of schizophrenia. The SMiLE album was part-pillaged and part shelved, not properly presented in its near-to-accurate form until rather staggeringly: 2011.
Yet like Pet Sounds, the SMiLE Sessions is mesmerising. ‘Heroes & Villains’, Cabin Essence, Surf’s Up, Wind Chimes, Mrs O’Leary’s Cow (Fire) and of course ending on its own ‘pocket symphony’: Good Vibrations. It is a stunningly good piece of work.
Wilson’s mental health deterioration in 1967 led to a power vacuum within the Beach Boys. Yes, there was the odd good song from time to time (‘Do it Again’, ‘Darlin’’ etc), but the Beach Boys eventually settled for becoming their own tribute act, a touring band of Hawaiian shirts that looked back with nostalgia, a far cry from the barrier-breaking days of Brian’s mid-60s genius.
Brian’s personal struggles throughout the decades have been well documented. He eventually became well enough (well, sort of), to continue touring again, but cut a rather tragic, terrified figure on stage. Now in his 80s, the touring has finally stopped and all that remains is a legacy that draws comparisons to the greats of rock music.
