Page 24 - the NOISE November 2012

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I - BRIAN AND MURRY
Brian Wilson was crying.
He was at Western Studios in Hollywood, sitting in a small unused utility closet. Brian was pretty sure no one even knew it existed. He came here when he needed to be alone, and this was definitely one of those times.
It was early 1967 and he was 24 years old.
His tears were not of sadness, but frustration. He clenched his fists and muttered quietly to himself.
“God damn God damn God damn God DAMN HIM, oh God DAMN HIM!”
Brian often wondered if the problem lie within himself. What kind of awful person hates his own father? Brian supposed he would roast in hell for such a terrible sin, but then figured God might make an exception for anything involving Murry Wilson.
Murry. Sometimes hearing his father’s name out loud made Brian visibly cringe. Murry’s presence guaranteed a good time will be had by none. He overtook the room like a bad smell. He didn’t even have to open his mouth for people to shy away from him. He just LOOKED like a jerk.
Murry was the kind of man who laughed loudest at his own jokes. He was constantly teetering on the brink of rage, and any- thing could set him off. Murry didn’t get peeved, he went straight to furious. He had no problem using violence to illustrate any of his points, and his wife and children learned to avoid certain sub- jects around him.
When Brian was 4 or 5, he angered Murry so much that his fa- ther smacked the side of his head hard enough to cause intense pain and a ringing in his right ear. Over the years, the ringing was replaced by a permanent semi-deafness. This meant that, al- though Brian would grow up to be one of the great sonic innova- tors of his time, he would never be able to hear true stereo. The irony was not lost on him.
After Brian got his own place following his 18th birthday, he ceased referring to his father as “Dad” and began calling him “Murry” to his face. This delighted his brothers Dennis and Carl to no end. When Dennis turned 18 he started doing the same, but in a far more mocking tone than Brian’s, and the three of them
would sit back and enjoy Murry’s apoplexy.
But Murry exacted his revenge. When Brian formed a vocal
group with his brothers and cousin Mike and folksinger Al Jar- dine, Murry wormed his way in as their manager, seeing as how Carl and Dennis were still in high school. Although Brian had an undeniable musical gift, he knew nothing about dollars and cents and his father did. Sort of.
What Murry lacked in business acumen (and social niceties) he made up for with dogged persistence and the sheer obnoxious force of his personality. If Murry wanted something from you, he clung like a barnacle and simply turned up the Murryness until you gave in. Murry insisted it was his management genius that was responsible for The Beach Boys’ overwhelming success, not the group’s voices and good looks or the quality of Brian’s music. Murry himself was an amateur songwriter (in the old-mill-stream vein, nothing anyone under the age of 50 would enjoy) and was
constantly badgering the band to record one of his tunes.
The Beach Boys were so successful that Murry convinced Capi- tol to release an album under his name. The Many Moods Of Mur- ry Wilson was his proudest moment and it was played repeat-
edly in the household. Even so, Murry would often muse aloud (to anyone who would listen) that the fact that everything his eldest son touched sold millions while his LP sold nothing was an obvious comment on the idiocy of the record-buying public. He considered his music classic, like Cole Porter, and Brian’s cars and girls and surfing songs kid stuff, unworthy of serious con- sideration.
His son wasn’t so sure.
Brian’s musical abilities went far beyond virtuosity. He had what musicians call “an ear”. He would hear a bird chirp and think “That’s an E flat” and he was usually right. He taught his brothers
to play their instruments from scratch. He unconsciously UNDER- STOOD music.
When Brian was very young, he had an epiphany. The fam- ily was at a county fair and the three boys were giggling at all the animals and their funny sounds. To make his brothers laugh, Brian was imitating the chickens’ cluck-cluck, the cows’ moo, the pigs’ snort. He had recently been tinkering with his dad’s piano, and read in a book that all music consisted of tone, pitch, and rhythm. He realized each of the animal noises he was voicing had ITS own tone, pitch, and rhythm. He thought “Why, that means EVERYTHING is music” and all of a sudden the cacaphony of ani- mals coalesced into one, a veritable farmland symphony. Brian felt like he was a conductor looking at an orchestral score, but instead of cellos, trombones, violins and flutes, the music was written for pigs, cows, sheep and chickens. Brian’s ears then took in the whole place: people’s footsteps, babies crying, parents yelling at their kids, the chink-chink of money going down a slot, the boys’ laughter, and he ... SAW it all, almost.
A few months ago, he recounted this story to his new buddy and collaborator Van Dyke Parks while they were working on the barnyard sequence of Smile. This prompted the two of them to visit a farm while ripped to the gills on acid, and Van Dyke’s mind was thoroughly blown.
In a lot of ways, LSD and Brian Wilson were made for each oth- er. Even before his awareness of mind-altering substances, Brian’s viewpoint could be a bit cosmic. He would say, “What does or- ange sound like?” or “Doesn’t her voice remind you of rain?” He intuitively grasped the structure of a piece like Tchaikovsky’s
“1812 Overture” on first listen, to the great delight of his music teachers.
Brian’s experiences with hallucinogenics opened his mind in dozens of different directions. Sometimes Brian was afraid he would never be able to transcribe all the incredible otherworldly sounds swirling around his head and they would be lost forever.
II - THE WRECKING CREW
In late 1964, Brian had a small nervous breakdown on the road and went home mid-tour. He then announced to the band he would no longer appear in concert with them, but would work
24 • NOVEMBER 2012 • the NOISE arts & news • thenoise.us