Ted, I feel you just wrote what you needed to write about Brian Wilson. Perhaps the reason that you haven’t published previous writings is that - forgive my sentimentality - “the universe“ knew that the right moment would be now. You’ve captured that magical commingling of the fragile human being that Brian was with his staggering genius. You have centred him to a physical and internal geography that you both shared. This piece has touched my heart at this time as we all honour Brian’s life and art and observe his passing. Thank you, Ted.
Sandra summed it up well. Thank you for being the person that you are Ted and for sharing your gifts with us, including this essay about what Brian meant to you and to the world.
I just forwarded "Wouldn't it be nice..." to my teens. They regularly meet with their group of friends simply to sing (hymns, a capella pieces, folk songs) - this song seems right up their alley and a fitting tribute to Brian Wilson. Stories like yours keep his memory alive, as will a young generation who continues to sing his songs.
My word, this is beautiful. Thank you for this. I felt that Brian made music for the dreamer, to furnish, enrich and sustain the inner world of the listener. He could do this because his music came from that deep place within.
Your words put into words, what I have felt every time I have listened to Brian and the Beach music. Your wisdom and personal insight about growing into our oddness, accepting and becoming more comfortable with our quirks, helps me to feel more comfortable with my own journey, which is exactly what Brian's music does. So, thank you.
I posted on Farce Book yesterday that I couldn’t begin to find the words to describe what his music meant to me. Thanks for providing some for me (and all the other excellent insights you have harvested from your own different places).
I wonder if you’ve given consideration to contemporary schooling/chidrearing, and how the increase in ADHD diagnoses in children may interplay with this experience of being the odd one out during adolescence? I worry that now we only allow “different” if it’s medicalized, rather than just accepting people for who they are.
Such a moving personal revelation, Ted. We all so benefit from your development.
Unfortunately, Brian went on not to personal integration and confidence, but in the other direction, earlier having been beaten by his father, then onto to psychedelics and full-blown mental illness around the time of "Good Vibrations". It took years of psychiatry treatment, personal management, and a second wife to finish his Smile project and tour again, despite the hallucinations continuing. A redemptive recovery of sorts that I will write about a bit in my weekdays daily columns tomorrow for Psychiatric Times. Compassion and concern for all who don't fit in is essential, but being increasingly compromised in our times.
Met Brian a couple times at United Western, where Brian lore was always a source for coffee machine conversation. At Westlake A he asked me if he could use my bass player. I was in awe, he was clearly struggling. Still a boy. A vulnerable, genius, boy. How lucky we were to have had him as our soundtrack. RIP
Wonderful summation of your experience and the strength garnered from those good vibrations he gave us all. I always loved ‘In My Room’ as I loved being alone to my thoughts as a kid, after being a target of bullies. First heard it when my hands were so small the album felt as big as the north forty. Snuck a morning listen after my sister’s party. A few years back when I was immobilized due to illness I transcribed an instrumental version for guitar in my head, and play it often when gigging. Beautiful song. Thanks for this heartfelt article, Ted.
In an odd coincidence, I also have a brick from a demolished high school building that I attended a few years behind a multiple Grammy winner. Mine is in my basement but maybe I should bring it out. I knew even while it was happening how fortunate I was to have the school experience I did. I knew about jocks and nerds from movies, but I never really dealt with cliquishness firsthand. I was also a weird kid, president of French Club and on the chess team, but nobody seemed to hold that against me. You are correct that a supportive environment for weird kids is really life-changing. Great post.
Thank you, Ted. So much of your piece resonates with me. Knowing that you are from Hawthorne, I knew you would have something to say about Brian. So many writers are weighing in on his passing, but what you've written gets closer to the emotion I have always felt about his music, and yes, his story.
The last part of your piece is especially meaningful. Here's to all who felt different from their peers, or who longed to be different, and searched for the ways to become that person. I'm just a few years younger than Brian, and his music's affect on my emotional life has been a central part of my life for 60+ years.
I was privileged to see him and his band perform Pet Sounds, and then Smile, when he toured. They made great memories.
I'll always remember Mr. Wilson for "Wouldn't it be nice". The lyrics are more multi-layered than any other song I've heard in the 56 years since I started paying attention. And the contrast between the wistful nature of the lyrics and the pure joy of the music make the song all the more profound. Decades later, it still hits me hard.
Odd kids...odd adults...what's normal anyway?...we have such trouble with the tasks of "norming and conforming" at the same time as we tell kids to stand out, be themselves, follow their dreams...we are a very dysfunctional society when it comes to raising children. Most of us are still untangling that in our own hearts, I bet. You're right, at some point you figure out how to put on armour. Which is so very sad, because then we have a society of armoured up people, and we end up all looking like Star Wars Storm troopers. When we could be the Star Wars "bar scenes." Much more interesting.
That's a touching encomium, Ted. Yes, those who see the world differently have a blessing, although it may feel like a curse initially. "Don't Worry Baby" is one of my favourite Beach Boys songs. I love the key change in the chorus.
Ted, I feel you just wrote what you needed to write about Brian Wilson. Perhaps the reason that you haven’t published previous writings is that - forgive my sentimentality - “the universe“ knew that the right moment would be now. You’ve captured that magical commingling of the fragile human being that Brian was with his staggering genius. You have centred him to a physical and internal geography that you both shared. This piece has touched my heart at this time as we all honour Brian’s life and art and observe his passing. Thank you, Ted.
Sandra summed it up well. Thank you for being the person that you are Ted and for sharing your gifts with us, including this essay about what Brian meant to you and to the world.
Ditto! ❤️
I just forwarded "Wouldn't it be nice..." to my teens. They regularly meet with their group of friends simply to sing (hymns, a capella pieces, folk songs) - this song seems right up their alley and a fitting tribute to Brian Wilson. Stories like yours keep his memory alive, as will a young generation who continues to sing his songs.
My word, this is beautiful. Thank you for this. I felt that Brian made music for the dreamer, to furnish, enrich and sustain the inner world of the listener. He could do this because his music came from that deep place within.
Your words put into words, what I have felt every time I have listened to Brian and the Beach music. Your wisdom and personal insight about growing into our oddness, accepting and becoming more comfortable with our quirks, helps me to feel more comfortable with my own journey, which is exactly what Brian's music does. So, thank you.
This is such a beautiful, vulnerable tribute. Thank you for writing it.
I posted on Farce Book yesterday that I couldn’t begin to find the words to describe what his music meant to me. Thanks for providing some for me (and all the other excellent insights you have harvested from your own different places).
That was truly beautiful, thank you for sharing.
I wonder if you’ve given consideration to contemporary schooling/chidrearing, and how the increase in ADHD diagnoses in children may interplay with this experience of being the odd one out during adolescence? I worry that now we only allow “different” if it’s medicalized, rather than just accepting people for who they are.
Such a moving personal revelation, Ted. We all so benefit from your development.
Unfortunately, Brian went on not to personal integration and confidence, but in the other direction, earlier having been beaten by his father, then onto to psychedelics and full-blown mental illness around the time of "Good Vibrations". It took years of psychiatry treatment, personal management, and a second wife to finish his Smile project and tour again, despite the hallucinations continuing. A redemptive recovery of sorts that I will write about a bit in my weekdays daily columns tomorrow for Psychiatric Times. Compassion and concern for all who don't fit in is essential, but being increasingly compromised in our times.
Steven, have you seen the movie “Love and Mercy?” It’s about the later years of Brian’s mental breakdown and recovery. I loved the movie
Time it was oh what a time it was
it was. A time of innocence…Simon.
Met Brian a couple times at United Western, where Brian lore was always a source for coffee machine conversation. At Westlake A he asked me if he could use my bass player. I was in awe, he was clearly struggling. Still a boy. A vulnerable, genius, boy. How lucky we were to have had him as our soundtrack. RIP
Wonderful summation of your experience and the strength garnered from those good vibrations he gave us all. I always loved ‘In My Room’ as I loved being alone to my thoughts as a kid, after being a target of bullies. First heard it when my hands were so small the album felt as big as the north forty. Snuck a morning listen after my sister’s party. A few years back when I was immobilized due to illness I transcribed an instrumental version for guitar in my head, and play it often when gigging. Beautiful song. Thanks for this heartfelt article, Ted.
Such a beautiful piece, Ted. Thanks for posting.
In an odd coincidence, I also have a brick from a demolished high school building that I attended a few years behind a multiple Grammy winner. Mine is in my basement but maybe I should bring it out. I knew even while it was happening how fortunate I was to have the school experience I did. I knew about jocks and nerds from movies, but I never really dealt with cliquishness firsthand. I was also a weird kid, president of French Club and on the chess team, but nobody seemed to hold that against me. You are correct that a supportive environment for weird kids is really life-changing. Great post.
Thank you, Ted. So much of your piece resonates with me. Knowing that you are from Hawthorne, I knew you would have something to say about Brian. So many writers are weighing in on his passing, but what you've written gets closer to the emotion I have always felt about his music, and yes, his story.
The last part of your piece is especially meaningful. Here's to all who felt different from their peers, or who longed to be different, and searched for the ways to become that person. I'm just a few years younger than Brian, and his music's affect on my emotional life has been a central part of my life for 60+ years.
I was privileged to see him and his band perform Pet Sounds, and then Smile, when he toured. They made great memories.
Brian felt pain for most of his life. Somehow he wrote, produced and played music of transcendent joy. It always lifted me, and still does.
I'll always remember Mr. Wilson for "Wouldn't it be nice". The lyrics are more multi-layered than any other song I've heard in the 56 years since I started paying attention. And the contrast between the wistful nature of the lyrics and the pure joy of the music make the song all the more profound. Decades later, it still hits me hard.
RIP to a rare musical genius.
Odd kids...odd adults...what's normal anyway?...we have such trouble with the tasks of "norming and conforming" at the same time as we tell kids to stand out, be themselves, follow their dreams...we are a very dysfunctional society when it comes to raising children. Most of us are still untangling that in our own hearts, I bet. You're right, at some point you figure out how to put on armour. Which is so very sad, because then we have a society of armoured up people, and we end up all looking like Star Wars Storm troopers. When we could be the Star Wars "bar scenes." Much more interesting.
That's a touching encomium, Ted. Yes, those who see the world differently have a blessing, although it may feel like a curse initially. "Don't Worry Baby" is one of my favourite Beach Boys songs. I love the key change in the chorus.
First time I've ever seen the word 'encomium'. Well said, and I just learned something.