Beach Boys singer and songwriter Brian Wilson – soon to be the subject of a feature film – is warm, enthusiastic and a little melancholic. He talks to SIOBHAN KANE
TALKING TO BRIAN Wilson feels dreamlike. The conversation, like his music, is swirling with intent, a need for clarity amidst a fuzzy kind of landscape. His way of speaking is musical, staccato-like and quavering, weighed down by a painful but inspirational history. Music is his only muse, and it has become a prayer for him since he was a child.
"Oh yes, when I was three years' old my mother used to play me Rhapsody in Blueon those old 78's." Gershwin is a composer that has loomed large in Wilson's career. "When I was 28 years' old I learned how to play the violin parts as well, I keep coming back to him."
His own work shares the expansiveness of Gershwin’s sound, so it made sense for the Gershwin estate to approach him in 2009 to revisit and complete some of the composer’s unfinished work – a daunting task, but satisfying. “We tried to take each song and make it appropriate to Ira and George’s music. There were 104 pieces, and we whittled it down to just two because we liked the chord changes, and we put a melody to those songs, and then we had two new songs!”
Wilson’s enthusiasm is childlike and warm, but there is a sense of sadness, something he carefully acknowledges. “Melancholy is there, but it is only a part of my creativity.”
I tell him that sometimes I wonder if he should have been just a solo artist, since it is his particular mingling of melancholy and joy that resonates. "I identify with the work I did with The Beach Boys as much as I do my solo work, although I appreciate the compliment on my solo songs. What did you think about That Lucky Old Sunrecord? It was a good concept album, wasn't it?"
His 2008 record was originally commissioned by the Southbank Centre, London and it reunited him with the brilliant, idiosyncratic Van Dyke Parks. They enjoy a rare, creative kinship. "I met Van Dyke at Terry Melcher's house in 1965 and I was so impressed with his manner of speech, so I asked if he had ever written any lyrics for songs and he replied: 'No, but I would be pleased to try'. We got together, and the first song we wrote was Heroes and Villains, and we were off and running on a collaboration trip."
Wilson had asked Parks to collaborate on Smilein 1966, but their work was thwarted by Mike Love's insistence that the sound wasn't synonymous with The Beach Boys. Almost four decades later, he utilised Parks's "visionary eloquence" once more to supreme effect.
He asks me if I liked Smile, then exclaims: “I’m so glad you like it, that means a lot to me. You see, when Van Dyke and I worked on Smile, we put it on the shelf, and then somehow managed to finish it and put it out. When I did that concert at the Royal Festival Hall it meant so much, I was very proud. Smile was an adventurous gamble, and there were lots of really interesting chord changes. I think we might work together again soon.”
It is also the ghostly hands of collaboration that are of huge importance to him. In particular, Phil Spector and his use of echo, combining instruments to make a third sound. Surprisingly, Wilson only met him once in 1984, for half an hour.
“Yes, that’s true. I was so inspired when I heard his records. It actually taught me how to write Pet Sounds, all of my records have been influenced by him.” Wilson is working on a covers’ record which pays homage to Spector and Chuck Berry, another hero of his. “Well, Chuck knew how to write rock’n’roll songs, and Phil knew how to produce rock’n’roll songs, so I learned how to produce and write through those people. Through that I learned how to sing falsetto. I am going to do a record that makes Phil and Chuck come alive.”
This is a pattern throughout Wilson's career, that sense of being pushed to great heights by others' achievements. Pet Sounds is routinely regarded as a response to The Beatles' Rubber Soul, and Sgt Pepper'swas a response to that. "There was a rivalry between us, but it was good, because we generally inspired each other to write music. I still listen to Paul McCartney a lot, he still inspires me."
When I remind him that McCartney regards God Only Knowsas one of his favourite songs, he becomes charmingly bashful. "I don't know, it's hard to look at my work sometimes." This extends to his modest reaction at winning a Grammy in 2004 for Mrs O'Leary's Cow, the instrumental from Smile. "I was so honoured I could not believe it. I still cannot believe I got an award." I ask him why. "Well, I didn't think I deserved it, I have never thought I was anything great." This statement seems all the more poignant in light of his struggle with bipolar schizoaffective disorder. His innocence is partly the key to his brilliance, it brings a serious-minded playfulness to his work. He has spoken about how he is more careful now about what he sings and writes, because he regards lyrical content as "dangerous".
He says the “wrong” kind of song can set off a chain reaction. “I really believe that. Like my song Sloop John B. I think the lines: ‘Drinking all night, got into a fight’ was a mistake of a lyric. I don’t dig violence so I don’t like those lyrics.”
This is unsurprising considering he has often used music as a kind of healing. In 2008, his collaboration with Stephen Kalinich, World at Peace Must Come, was released, unearthed after decades. It boggles the mind to think of other such recordings, gathering dust. "Steve and I worked on that in 1969. He wrote all the lyrics and I helped him with the music. I don't recall any other songs from that time that we worked on, but there might be."
It is apparent that Wilson's only interest is in writing music and paying tribute to others. For example, his contribution to the upcoming Buddy Holly tribute record. "I wanted to record the song Rave On, but it had been done before, so my second choice was Listen To Me. When I sat down and listened to Buddy's version it was captivating. I tried to rearrange it and make it more my style. I hope my fans like it."
He tells me that he makes music every day, and that he is so happy to be doing what he loves. This, along with his history, makes him a perfect subject for a film, something Bill Pohlad (producer of Terence Malick's Tree of Life) is working on. "Yes, it is in production now. I'm excited to see how it progresses!"
And with that he is gone, back into the half-lit world of dreams, where perhaps only true genius resides.
Brian Wilson plays Gershwin and his own music at the Grand Canal Theatre Dublin on September 7
