Celestial harmonies

Let's face it: you don't need yet another person telling you that Brian Wilson was an incomparable genius, so I won't waste your time on that front. Here are some brief personal reflections instead.

The first time I recall hearing the Beach Boys, I must have been about 11, at my brother's birthday party. 'Good Vibrations' seemed both perfectly suited to the situation there and then - a sunny garden in August - and utterly otherworldly, transportive in a way that was totally enchanting.

In later years I would fall in love with all of those deceptively simple pop songs about surfing, cars and girls that, like the music of the Shangri-Las on the opposite coast of the US, capture the excitement and outsized emotional dramas of teenagerhood. It was a love subsequently cemented by the Jesus & Mary Chain and Yo La Tengo.

I'd heard 'God Only Knows' - and been stunned by it, of course - but kept holding off taking a deep dive into Pet Sounds simply because I didn't believe it could possibly live up to its reputation. And yet, when I finally did, I found myself feeling as though it perhaps wasn't lauded loudly enough. Pretty much every aspect of the album is astonishing - something underlined by listening to the isolated vocals of tracks like 'You Still Believe In Me'. (Here's a personal appreciation of the album by Treble's Jeff Terich, who was lucky enough to see Wilson perform it in its entirety in 2016.)

Fast forward to 2005, and what remains one of my favourite Glastonbury sets of all time (and that's saying something): Wilson in the Sunday evening slot on the Pyramid Stage. As the man said himself, he brought the sunshine at the end of a festival most remembered for the Friday downpour that caused flash flooding and general chaos. Hearing those songs in that context, surrounded by thousands of people also having the time of their lives, was very special indeed.

As has been very well documented, Wilson was undoubtedly an eccentric, troubled soul (see Nick Kent's long feature on him, republished in his book The Dark Stuff). But it's the music for which he should be remembered. He just wasn't made for these times - and neither was he made for this planet.