The Enduring Echo of Pet Sounds: A Thank You to Brian Wilson
Some albums fundamentally change music forever, and Pet Sounds undeniably belongs in that elite group. It has long fluctuated between the number one and two spots on Rolling Stone's '500 Greatest Albums of All Time' list, and many, myself included, consider it the single greatest recording ever made. It truly stands as a towering and transformative achievement in popular music. When it arrived in May 1966, there was simply nothing else like it. Its creator, Brian Wilson, who we sadly lost this week, poured his visionary attention to detail into every single note, forever altering what was believed possible both in the studio and in popular music. For me, Pet Sounds is far more than just an influential record; it's a deeply personal anchor, a core memory, and a sonic companion that has truly guided and reflected my own journey for decades. If you know me at all, you'll know I can't shut the f%ck up about Pet Sounds; I’m constantly asking friends, 'Have you listened to Pet Sounds this week?' Still, trying to truly articulate the profound impact it has had on me has made writing this post an exceedingly challenging task.
My thoughts this week were meant to be elsewhere, but the passing of Brian Wilson shifted everything. While his loss is undoubtedly a huge loss, it's also an opportunity to truly celebrate the unparalleled creativity he poured into the world. His life, marked by both extraordinary triumphs and heartbreaking tragedies, stands as a testament to the human spirit. Not having known Brian personally, I'll refrain from a purely sentimental tribute, trusting that the many who worked alongside him will offer truly profound insights into his life and music—tributes I am deeply looking forward to reading.
When I think of Brian Wilson, I immediately think of Pet Sounds. This album was almost entirely Brian’s vision, with very little input from the other Beach Boys. Most of it was written and recorded while the band was out touring, with Brian spending day after day in studio alongside the Wrecking Crew, crafting one of the most influential albums of all time.
What’s even more interesting is the album's post-release journey. Its initial reception was lukewarm; it wasn't what people expected from a Beach Boys album. Then there’s Smile, the follow-up Brian was working on, intended to eclipse Pet Sounds and be a “teenage symphony to God” according to Brian. Due to band issues and his own mental health struggles, that album wouldn't see a full release for decades. Even though the Beach Boys continued for decades after Pet Sounds, they never again reached the creative peak of that period. Brian himself took a backseat in writing and recording more and more after Pet Sounds.
In many people's minds, including my own, there’s an alternate timeline where the Brian Wilson who wrote and recorded Pet Sounds was celebrated, encouraged, and recognized as a genius for his achievements at the time. In this timeline, he would have continued with follow-up albums like Smile and who knows what else. But we never got that, and that’s okay. I think it powerfully highlights how fragile the creative spirit can be, how easily it can be broken, and how even the most creative individuals can struggle to keep that inspiration flowing. It’s the human experience on display for all to hear.
Pet Sounds was an album I owned for a while before I ever truly sat down and gave it a real listen. Kevin, the founder of the record store I ran in college, had given me a copy during a time when I was diving down the 60’s psych rabbit hole. He prophetically told me, "You’re going to love this album, this will be your album."
I was familiar enough with The Beach Boys; my worn copy of Endless Summer was a frequent resident on my "Now Playing" stand. The boyish charm and innocence of their early albums never failed to lift my mood. The ‘C Side’ of that album, in particular, saw countless repeat plays over the years. Why I didn’t throw Pet Sounds on sooner is still a bit of a mystery. Perhaps it was the goofy cover? It certainly wasn’t as trippy or intriguing as many of the 60s psych albums I was into. Or maybe I associated "Wouldn't It Be Nice" with 50 First Dates? It was obviously the best thing about the movie, and I loved the song, but perhaps I just thought of it as the best "single" from the album. I don’t know. But my worn, gifted copy sat patiently on my shelf for years before I finally took the plunge.
I can remember the exact night I put Pet Sounds on with the intention of listening to it as an album. I was having a particularly hard week, struggling with the heartbreak that comes from not fitting into what I thought "normal" was. The holidays were over, and it was the dreariest time of winter with no end in sight. My house was literally frozen solid; we had no heat, and the pipes would freeze for months every year. Lying on the floor in my zero-degree sleeping bag beside my record player, I was just going to let the album take me out of my current state of existence.
I’ve never been hit by a record as hard as Pet Sounds hit me that night. Kevin’s prophetic words were truly fulfilled; it became my record. I felt like Brian’s lyrics fit me like a glove in that moment. Unlike the ephemeral songs on Endless Summer, Pet Sounds stuck around like acid in serotonin receptors. I couldn’t get the album out of my head. It wasn’t any particular song bouncing around rent-free, but rather the overwhelming feeling the entire album gave me. We lost Kevin and the store a few years ago, and Pet Sounds has remained a connecting strand to him and the time we shared at the record store.
Over the years, Pet Sounds has taken on many different meanings for me. Years after the record store, I would earn a degree in Audio Engineering, and once again, Pet Sounds became this holy grail record for me to appreciate in an entirely new way. Brian’s biggest innovation in the studio, in my opinion, was the way he essentially treated the studio as its own instrument. It became his instrument.
Skipping ahead to my post-studio life, I got really into composition, doing scores for film and games. I started spending a lot of time just reading through charts and sheet music of all my favorite composers, artists, and bands. The big book of Beatles scores was a constant reference. Pet Sounds, however, was on another level entirely. It was shockingly unpredictable. Brian did things with music that I would never think to do, and I’m sure a lot of that is why Pet Sounds in particular remains so interesting and exciting for me. If you’re a music theory nerd like me, Pet Sounds will be a gold mine of intrigue and brilliance to dig into.
My gratitude for Pet Sounds is immeasurable. From that transformative first listen, it instantly became a constant companion, and an album that I'll carry with me always. What a gift it was to exist in Brian Wilson's world, and to experience the raw, vulnerable creativity he so generously shared.
To wrap this up, I just want to share a few of my favorite Brian songs. I’ll start with one of my favorite non-album tracks from the Pet Sounds Sessions - the gloriously upbeat instrumental “Trombone Dixie.” This is a mood lifter if there ever was one.
Brian once said “Be My Baby” was the biggest inspiration of his whole life. A cover would show up on the unreleased Adult/Child record that is just a glorious tribute to his favorite songs, and was quoted as saying he listened to this song almost exclusively for a year or so. Funnily enough I remember a teacher exposing me to oldies in 3rd grade, and I remember “Lollipop” and “Be My Baby” sticking out and never leaving my mind after hearing them.
Another killer track that I know from the Adult/Child bootleg is “Calendar Girls.” This one has real oldies vibes to it and is unbearably catchy. I could drive around my little island with this on repeat in the summertime for hours on end.
I’ll leave it at there for now. There’s so many obvious choices to listen to that I won’t even start going down that rabbit hole. If you have any fun Brian Wilson stories, or favorite songs, or appreciation to voice I’d love to hear about it. Drop me a letter at andy@salad.design and brighten up my day.
Farewell - for today,
Andy
