What could be farther from The Real New Yorker than the lifestyle captured by the songs of The Beach Boys? On face value, not much.
My thoughts turn to Brian Wilson and the guys today for two reasons. First, I hear tell that my son — a Real New Yorker if ever there was one — got himself the music of the Smile Sessions — the “Director’s Cut” of the long-awaited, post-Pet Sounds, “lost” album of Brian Wilson.
The second reason is today’s balmy, Indian summer weather. The Real New Yorker never takes such days for granted. Here, in the last throes of summer, before the temperatures dip, the winds whip off the Hudson, and the tragically unhip holiday decorations festoon our shopping streets, are a precious few days that are sadly beautiful.
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Those of us who know enough to live in the moment recognize the aching melancholy of these last embers thrown by our dying summer’s life. Wistful, we recognize, too, the fragility of our circumstance here on earth and bathe ourselves in the ochre light of early afternoon, perhaps optimistically wearing only shorts and a tee-shirt, in homage to summer, as it passes its torch to late Fall and, finally, the icy harshness of winter.
On such days, I urge you to listen to the Smile Sessions, with its remastered Surf’s Up and Heroes and Villains. The experience need not be chemically enhanced, as was certainly the process for Mr. Wilson. Sit with headphones, eyes closed, pencil in hand, and write the words that come to mind. What’s on your list? Wistful. Sad. Melancholy. Heavy-hearted. Could not Wind Chimes be the perfect sountrack music for a day like today? And, do you really believe our musical genius, Mr. Wilson, is truly getting “excitations” from the girl in Good Vibrations, from what you know of the author from his wrenching plea in Wouldn’t It Be Nice?
Oh, dear readers, in my book, Brian Wilson might have hailed from southern California, but his angst is that of The Real New Yorker, through and through.