Post by Kapitan on Sept 16, 2023 0:46:08 GMT
The Beach Boys are the first band to ever bring me to tears. Well, technically, Brian Wilson was the first artist. Or, even more technically, Jeff Foskett, maybe. Or at least primarily?
In June 2001, I, a still-new and still-tentative Beach Boys (or as I would have said it then, Brian Wilson) fan, saw my first Brian Wilson concert. He opened for Paul Simon. I even skipped watching the NBA Draft for it. My favorite "holiday"! (Don't worry, I recorded it on VHS. Those were the days. Well, those were days.)
At that point, I was still very much of the mindset that there was some kind of hipster-acceptable puzzle to be worked out after which Brian Wilson was not just acceptable, but admirable, and never mind the [insert laundry list of insults and slurs here] people around him. Any of this nonsense about surfing or cars or beaches or, well, frankly anything coherent, was just that: nonsense. But there was a genius in there ... and somehow he only spoke to us through Tony Asher and Van Dyke Parks.
During that show, I heard some of those songs that made me a Brian Wilson fan. Not just "God Only Knows" and "Wouldn't It Be Nice," but "Our Prayer" and "Wouldn't It Be Nice." Magical.
But the highlight happened far before any of those songs were performed. The show, as I figured it might because of the then-recent Live At The Roxy, opened with "The Little Girl I Once Knew." A relative rarity showing the man's genius. But then a sharp left turn into "Dance, Dance, Dance," one of those songs that somehow fit into the corny category I despised with all of my being while also being inarguably good. Like, good. Musically impressive.
Third was "Don't Worry Baby," a song I knew I'd known as long as I'd known any songs at all. And I'd never cared for it. Once I developed those aforementioned thoughts about the dreaded (Sunkist-shilling) Beach Boys (as opposed to Brian Wilson), this one got lumped into that pile. Enemy territory. Not even worth fighting over, actually. More wasteland.
Jeff Foskett sang it, or at least doubled it. I'm trying hard to remember, and knowing what I know about memory, I don't want to pretend to be too sure. But I swear I remember hearing some of those high notes with a pure tone. I don't think Foskett got the lead solo, but I think Wilson was supported, to say the least. I remember it was beautiful.
I remember realizing it was beautiful.
The song wasn't a car-or-surfing piece of nonsense I felt so strongly I ought to hate to the best of my ability. The song was beauty itself.
Tears snuck up on me. I was there alone, and this song I didn't like was making me cry. And I cried there, quietly (thank God). That's the first time I ever shed tears from music of any genre, anywhere.
Not many other musicians have done anything similar since, with the Beach Boys (not just Brian Wilson) being chief among them. (Including tonight, I admit, with "Wouldn't It Be Nice" sneaking up on me!" Hence the thread.)
But what about you? Have the Beach Boys ever drawn tears from your eyes?
In June 2001, I, a still-new and still-tentative Beach Boys (or as I would have said it then, Brian Wilson) fan, saw my first Brian Wilson concert. He opened for Paul Simon. I even skipped watching the NBA Draft for it. My favorite "holiday"! (Don't worry, I recorded it on VHS. Those were the days. Well, those were days.)
At that point, I was still very much of the mindset that there was some kind of hipster-acceptable puzzle to be worked out after which Brian Wilson was not just acceptable, but admirable, and never mind the [insert laundry list of insults and slurs here] people around him. Any of this nonsense about surfing or cars or beaches or, well, frankly anything coherent, was just that: nonsense. But there was a genius in there ... and somehow he only spoke to us through Tony Asher and Van Dyke Parks.
During that show, I heard some of those songs that made me a Brian Wilson fan. Not just "God Only Knows" and "Wouldn't It Be Nice," but "Our Prayer" and "Wouldn't It Be Nice." Magical.
But the highlight happened far before any of those songs were performed. The show, as I figured it might because of the then-recent Live At The Roxy, opened with "The Little Girl I Once Knew." A relative rarity showing the man's genius. But then a sharp left turn into "Dance, Dance, Dance," one of those songs that somehow fit into the corny category I despised with all of my being while also being inarguably good. Like, good. Musically impressive.
Third was "Don't Worry Baby," a song I knew I'd known as long as I'd known any songs at all. And I'd never cared for it. Once I developed those aforementioned thoughts about the dreaded (Sunkist-shilling) Beach Boys (as opposed to Brian Wilson), this one got lumped into that pile. Enemy territory. Not even worth fighting over, actually. More wasteland.
Jeff Foskett sang it, or at least doubled it. I'm trying hard to remember, and knowing what I know about memory, I don't want to pretend to be too sure. But I swear I remember hearing some of those high notes with a pure tone. I don't think Foskett got the lead solo, but I think Wilson was supported, to say the least. I remember it was beautiful.
I remember realizing it was beautiful.
The song wasn't a car-or-surfing piece of nonsense I felt so strongly I ought to hate to the best of my ability. The song was beauty itself.
Tears snuck up on me. I was there alone, and this song I didn't like was making me cry. And I cried there, quietly (thank God). That's the first time I ever shed tears from music of any genre, anywhere.
Not many other musicians have done anything similar since, with the Beach Boys (not just Brian Wilson) being chief among them. (Including tonight, I admit, with "Wouldn't It Be Nice" sneaking up on me!" Hence the thread.)
But what about you? Have the Beach Boys ever drawn tears from your eyes?