Wednesday, June 11, 2025, may go down in history as the Day the World Stopped Spinning. For me, it was the day my turntable began spinning out of control, in memory of Beach Boy Brian Wilson, who is likely rockin’ and rollin’ in heaven with his brothers, Carl and Dennis Wilson.
If you believe in forever, then life is just a one-night stand. If there’s a Rock n’ Roll Heaven, well you know they’ve got a hell of a band. Sing a song to light my fire, remember Jim that way. They’ve all found another place, another place to play. (“Rock N’ Roll Heaven” – Righteous Brothers – 1974)
I count myself one of lucky ones who got a chance to see and hear the Beach Boys in concert, once about 20 years ago, poolside, at the Venetian in Las Vegas. This, unfortunately, wasn’t the original Beach Boys with Brian Wilson; it was fronted by Mike Love and featured Mike’s son Christian Love (clever name) on guitar and Al Jardine, also on guitar. The drummer was Barry Cowsill from the Cowsills of “The Rain, The Park & Other Things” fame.
During intermission, I was able to chat with Mike to confirm something my singer/songwriter friend John Stewart once told me: That John had tutored the original Beach Boys in how to properly sing harmony at their family home in Torrance. When I asked Mike if what John had confided in me was true, Mike said, “Yep.” It’s no coincidence that the Beach Boys wore striped shirts, as did John Stewart’s band The Kingston Trio. I also got a chance to see the Mike Love version of the Beach Boys twice in Laughlin about 10 or 15 years ago.
What a lucky boy I was back in the early 60s, when I was the lunchtime cafeteria DJ at Tustin High school and got to play Beach Boy records during lunch. Another time, I was in a Beach Boys sort of cover group during an assembly where I was one of four or five boys, along with the vice principal, to hold a surfboard on stage and sing “Surfin’ Safari.” It was really lame because the vice principal made us wear Beatles-style wigs.
Let’s go surfing now, everybody’s learnin’ how, come on and safari with me.
Keep it flyin’,
Uncle Mott
0 Comments