When Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys died on Thursday (June 11) at the age of 82, his family announced the sad news in a brief Instagram post, omitting where, when, or how he passed away. They asked for privacy. But Wilson’s genius was never a secret — certainly not to the baby boomers who grew up with his music.
As his contemporary, former Beatle Paul McCartney, said: “The notes he heard in his head and passed to us were simple and brilliant at the same time. How we will continue without Brian Wilson, God Only Knows. Thank you, Brian.”
Yes, to recall one of his most beloved songs, God Only Knows what the future holds. But Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys will live on — as long as there are boomers, vinyl records, and Spotify playlists.
And later generations should listen, too. Their music is all there, streaming on YouTube and Spotify. The Beach Boys’ shimmering harmonies still thrill the most jaded souls and set even the most reluctant feet tapping.
Their voices — rising and falling, with Brian Wilson’s falsetto floating above —evoke visions of surf, sea, and breeze. It was called surf music, inspired by the waves and beaches of California. Ironically, Wilson himself never surfed. He once said, “I tried it once and got conked on the head with the board.” But he drew inspiration from the carefree spirit and adrenaline of that world, translating it into irresistible rhythms and haunting melodies. You don’t have to surf to be swept away by his sublime harmonies.
The sweetest music
The Beatles may have been the greatest band. But the Beach Boys made the sweetest music.
Wilson’s genius didn’t emerge in isolation. He rose to fame in the early 1960s, in the youthful, optimistic era of President John Kennedy. Matching the mood of the times, a new sound emerged on American airwaves — first as rousing guitar instrumentals, then through the songs of Jan and Dean and the Beach Boys. It was a sound that married the raw energy of rock and roll with the dreamy cadences of doo-wop.
The Beach Boys shared the lush studio sensibilities of producer Phil Spector, whose famous “Wall of Sound” shaped hits for the Ronettes, the Righteous Brothers, and Ike and Tina Turner. But the Beach Boys were in a category of their own — inimitable in their harmonies and melodies. They were talented musicians, but they owed their signature sound to the genius of their principal songwriter and, eventually, producer: Brian Wilson.
Their songs evoke a pop era that now feels almost impossibly innocent. The Beach Boys sang about surfing, fast cars, teenage romance, heartache, and fun — a wholesome young world that still echoes in their music. When the group was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1988, Wilson said: “I wanted to write joyful music that would make other people feel good.” He succeeded brilliantly.
Early days
Growing up on rock and roll and doo-wop, Brian formed a band with his brothers Carl and Dennis, cousin Mike Love, and friend Al Jardine. Dennis had started surfing and suggested they write a song about it. That became Surfin’. They initially called themselves the Pendletones, after a type of flannel shirt popular with surfers, but the small local label that released their song changed the name to the Beach Boys. It stuck.
Though Wilson never surfed, he vividly conjured that world in exuberant songs like Surfin’ Safari and Surfin’ USA, and tender ballads like Surfer Girl and Surfer Moon. His songwriting expanded beyond the surf to the full spectrum of teenage life — fast cars, parties, heartbreaks, and dreams. Little Deuce Coupe and 409 celebrated cars, while Fun, Fun, Fun and Don’t Worry Baby were about cars and girls. Help Me, Rhonda and Do You Wanna Dance chased romance, and The Warmth of the Sun gave voice to sorrow.
Even their bounciest tracks hinted at deeper currents. Beneath the cheerful harmonies were melodies that sometimes meandered into melancholy, like autumn leaves drifting on a breeze. As Wilson’s artistry matured, the music became more complex. Nowhere is that more evident than in Pet Sounds, the landmark 1966 album widely regarded as the Beach Boys’ greatest work.
Pet Sounds
Pet Sounds didn’t initially match the commercial success of earlier albums like Surfin’ USA or All Summer Long, but it has since been acclaimed as a masterpiece. “It was Pet Sounds that blew me out of the water,” McCartney once said. “I figure no one is educated musically ’til they’ve heard that album.” While the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band is often ranked the greatest pop album of all time, Pet Sounds is usually second.
Among its standout tracks: God Only Knows, often considered the Beach Boys’ best; the wistful Wouldn’t It Be Nice, about a teenager yearning for adult freedoms; the tender You Still Believe in Me, about falling short of a lover’s expectations; and the heartbreaking Caroline, No, a lament for lost love and innocence. The melancholy is offset by the lover’s rapture in Good Vibrations, where lush, buzzy instrumentation is complemented by tremulous harmonies. A personal favourite is Sloop John B, a Caribbean folk song transformed by the Beach Boys into a plaintive ballad with haunting harmonies.
Wilson’s creative genius was shadowed by personal pain. He endured an abusive father, a domineering therapist, and lifelong mental health struggles. In early 2024, after the death of his wife Melinda, Wilson’s representatives said he had been diagnosed with dementia. His life after the early highs of the 1960s was uneven, marked by long silences and occasional comebacks. But nothing can erase his place in pop music history as one of its finest innovators.
Even Bob Dylan, the Nobel Prize-winning bard of modern songwriting, paid him tribute. “That ear,” Dylan once said admiringly. “I mean, Jesus, he’s got to will that to the Smithsonian.”
Carl and Dennis Wilson passed away years ago. Now, only Mike Love and Al Jardine remain from the original Beach Boys.
In 2012, the Beach Boys performed in Singapore during their 50th anniversary tour. A local newspaper noted some off-key moments and forgotten lyrics, but the fans didn’t mind. They were there to honour legends. After all, you don’t question the gods of harmony.
Featured image from Wikimedia Commons (for illustration purposes only)