The year was 1966 when the Beach Boys released their seminal album, “Pet Sounds,” and put a temporary halt to the so-called “British Invasion” of popular music in America.
Even the Beatles were said to have been stunned upon hearing a band known for surf music release something that was musically intricate with surprisingly deep and introspective lyrics.
“I loved him,” Paul McCartney said upon learning of the death of Brian Wilson at the age of 82 on Wednesday.
Wilson didn’t just make music for his generation, his music on Pet Sounds is every bit as relevant today as it was 59 years ago when it was first released.
I have told the story before about how, in 1980 or so, my father found out that I had talked my mother into buying me Culture Club and Air Supply records as Christmas gifts from Santa that year. He took the albums back to the store and exchanged them for what he deemed “real music.”
“Pet Sounds” was one of those albums that I found under the tree along with James Brown’s “Live at the Apollo.”
At first, I was crest-fallen to have Joan Jett replaced by the Beach Boys, but I ended up wearing that record out.
Up to that point in the 1960s, the Beach Boys were known for their string of pop hits like “Barbara Ann” and “Little Deuce Coupe,” which celebrated adolescence in the same vein as Buddy Holly and pretty much everyone else in the late 1950s and early 1960s.
“Pet Sounds” was not only different in its writing style, Wilson wisely realized that while the Beach Boys were outstanding singers, they did not have the chops to play the instruments he was hearing in his head.
By 1965, drummer Dennis Wilson was more dedicated to spending the money he had made off of their early hits and less into practicing his drums. The other members simply did not know what to do with the intricate chord arrangements Brian was toying with.
Before the world was introduced to “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” Wilson wanted to introduce the use of French horns, bicycle bells, bass harmonicas and even a theremin into rock music.
To get the sounds out of his head and committed onto tape, Wilson brought in the “Wrecking Crew,” a group of studio musicians which included the incredibly talented Carol Kaye, the woman who elevated the bass guitar from a background instrument to an integral part of the composition process.
Bass maestro Bootsy Collins remarked that while James Brown created funk, he did it based on grooves that originated with Kaye. Wilson saw the talent there and gave Kaye free rein to fit her ideas into his song structures and while “Good Vibrations” did not appear on Pet Sounds (it was recorded in those sessions, but released the following year as a single), it is the bass line that makes that song the classic that it remains today and that same bass virtuosity is present in “Sloop John B.”
Speaking of composition, Wilson was the first to use the studio as a bit of an instrument itself and not just a series of machines to capture sound. He famously had his swimming pool drained and mic’d to capture the acoustics.
The band’s singers thought perhaps Wilson had lost his mind when they were asked to climb into the empty pool to record the vocals for “Pet Sounds.”
At first, critics and radio stations alike did not know what to do with the record as it was so different from anything else being recorded. But the public embraced the album, sending it up the charts.
The album also caused the Beatles to completely change course on “Sgt. Pepper’s” and even then, both McCartney and John Lennon always insisted that “Pet Sounds” was the superior album and that their response to it only “measured up.”
Sadly, “Pet Sounds” would be the supernova for Wilson as a combination of mental illness and drug use would douse his creative spirit. By the time the Beach Boys played Augusta in 1983, Wilson had long ago disappeared from the stage.
It was “Pet Sounds,” though, that changed music in ways that Wilson could have only imagined, from the emergence of bands like Creedence Clearwater Revival to the mini-sexual revolution of Madonna; it was Wilson’s creative vision that saw artists move away from writing lyrics about chasing girls and hot-rodding to more introspective and mature topics.
“So, hoist up the John B.’s sails…let me go home, I wanna go home.”
Rest in peace, Brian Wilson.
Scott Hudson is the Senior Investigative Reporter, Editorial Page Editor and weekly columnist for The Augusta Press. Reach him at scott@theaugustapress.com
