Sock Free Hideaway

BEATS OF LOVE 

153.  Do You Like Worms? (Roll Plymouth Rock) by The Beach Boys

BRIAN WILSON was another saviour. I practically owe Pet Sounds my life as very little else reflected at me from my intense feelings of introspective alienation in the late 80s. 

Set-aside and bullied mercilessly into creating by a jealous father, he set the band apart. Understanding intricate harmonies whilst tapping into the pop zeitgeist. Still today the pinnacle of good-time music. 

Retiring from the stage in 1964, the experimentation evidenced on Pet Sounds; wild harmonic melodies, richer orchestration, and soul searching emotive lyrics, still had buckets of commercial appeal but culminated in a proper work of art. Complexity made to sound simple is never easy and takes true genius. Exchanging 4 boxes of records in the mid-nineties for my CD box set was an easy decision. 

A Smile bootleg and Domenic Priore's Look! Listen! Vibrate! Smile! The Beach Boys, which documents the madness surrounding the sessions, were essential to every self respecting music freak. Then in 2011 Capitol finally unloaded all the sessions onto CDs. I found a higher state of grace because of the way my understanding of the world was being set to this heartfelt and mind-blowing music. I can now die happy. 

In the fallout of his aborted masterpiece, bandmates, accustomed to success, played the retro circuit to packed stadiums. His touches of genius on Wild Honey, Holland and Surf's Up whilst mainly laying on his bed full of barbiturate and fast-food are still brilliantly creative. With the conservative brand established, Brian played the part of the led astray leper for years. 

That it took until 2011 to let the faithful hear the Smile sessions in all their studio glory tell you how conservative the brand was. More tragedy surrounded his life than his death. In death, those that know understand deeply just how important it was that the competition for pop musical supremacy took place. That Wilson felt tortured into surpassing the studio achievement of the Beatles means we've all benefited. 

That I have a favourite out of all his pure gold is a minor miracle, but this was the tune I played in my head post-op when I realized there was no morphine drip as promised.