Long Promised Road

Hey folks,

Here’s a kind of disjointed dispatch from your old pal, CP. I've been hustling here and there, "runnin' to-and-fro, hard workin' at the mill” as the man said, but I still wanted to check in. And before I go any further, I should mention today is Valentine’s Day and me and the CP trio, we’ll be at the Swedish American Hall in San Francisco tonight for our annual anti-V-Day event with The Make Out String Quartet. There may still be tickets left.

Speaking of fans of the great indoors. Have you seen Long Promised Road? The Brian Wilson documentary. Pretty cool. Of course I have some thoughts. 

But first, thanks for subscribing. For being here. They say the only way to get good at writing is to actually do it. Just do it. One misspelled word at a time (praise be to spellcheck). And, that’s one reason why I’m here. The other is that my brain is spilling over with trivia. Trivia I just don’t know what to do with. I may not be the brightest bulb in the drawer. But my trivia cup runneth over. Which if you factor in what some days I’m sure is early onset dementia, makes me kind of like AI, only not as good.

Now let me ask you this: When you think of Rock and Roll personified, who comes to mind?  As the living embodiment of same. You might go with, oh, that’s easy: Keith! Or on the more outré tip, maybe Tommy Stinson. Dave Davies in his prime… Way out on the margins, there’s always somebody who ponies up Joan Rivers. (It takes all kinds.)  So, yeah, the Stones, Kinks. The Placemats. The Brian Jonestown Massacre fellows. Joan Rivers.

Those guys. That crowd.

But Johnny Depp in eyeliner aside, riddle me this: Has there ever been a time where two members of those groups have had restraining orders against each other at the same time? I’ll take my answer off the air.

For me, there’s an easy answer to my own question, a place I return to time and again. The intersection of Rock and Roll where life and death, restraining orders, the California Dream, schizophrenia, surfing, the Wrecking Crew, the Maharishi, Charles Manson, insanity, psychological abuse, child abuse, genius, LSD, heroin, family squabbles, accidental drownings, nervous breakdowns, paranoid psychosis, reclusiveness and resurgence… yes, and even John Motherhumping Stamos… (like I said, it takes all kinds) intersect. 

That, boys and girls (and anyone else – we don’t want to leave you out!), is the story of the Beach Boys. 

Segue alert: There’s a quote out there by Anthony Bourdain. I can’t find it. (Maybe I imagined it?). It goes something like this: “Working in restaurant kitchens – it can give you a cynical view of the food business.” 

You know, the whole “how the sausage is made” adage. There’s something to that, I’m sure. And in Bourdain’s case it might have something to do with why he gravitated toward street food.

Friends, I’ve done time in the music trenches. (Then again, depending on the day, and time of day, I don’t know that I’m actually in the music business. I often joke that I’m still trying to break in.) Either way, yeah, I get it. It’s hard not to get a cynical attitude around new music. What with the ProTools, and the Auto-tune, and the social media… and the perennial outrage about John Stamos not being included in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Boo! 

Seriously though. Along with all kinds of great new great stuff, there’s a lot of processed junk out there that can leave you hungry for musical street food: Doo Wop records recorded in a room with one mic. Chicha and Cumbia music from Peru and Columbia.

It leaves you hungry for The Kingsmen doing Louie Louie:

Where you’re listening to musicians in a room. Even those AM radio records from the 60’s and 70’s where the vocals are overdubbed. It’s not like they’re punched in to death. It's still a performance. I look around at the records I have piled up in the current listening pile. Along with the new Paranoid Style, there’s Sam Cooke, Jesse Mae Hemphill:

Townes Van Zant Live at the Old Quarter, Fairport:

Records you just know were not labored over. 

The Beach Boys singing around one mic. It’s a sound. Even with tracks as layered as anything on Pet Sounds. It’s still people in a room playing together. Maybe it's pros like the Wrecking Crew. But there’s chemistry there. Some love each other, some can’t stand each other. And guess what? Take Mike Love out of the equation and it’s not that sound anymore.

Whatever.

Yeah, the cynicism. The sausage factory. Sure. It can happen.

And then there’s the propaganda around promoting a new record. That can be a turn off. Getting new music out there is its own challenge. These days, if you can afford it, you could have a movie made about you. I’ve seen that. That could work. But, what if you make a movie? And you’re not interesting. I’ve seen that too. 

Which brings me back in a loop to a legacy I can always count on: The Beach Boys – America’s Band. And its mastermind, the Mozart of Rock ‘n Roll, Brian Wilson. Always interesting. Effortlessly so. And based on the steady stream of books and TV specials and movies like Long Promised Road and deluxe box-set re-issues, I’m not alone. Think about it, how is it that through all these books, podcasts and films and 60 Minutes tearful interviews and rest… how is it we don't really know anything about Brian Wilson? He’s still a man of a mystery. And it looks like he'll remain as much long after he's gone. That was the feeling I took away after watching this new doc. (Actually, it’s not that new. It came out in 2021!)

I loved the film. Did I learn anything? Well, yes and no. I don’t know that it’s all that revealing. But it’s emotional. I don’t know that it really gives us that rare peek inside Brian Wilson’s mind. But you’ll learn a little bit about what he went through. How he suffered. And was banged up as a child. So, yes we do get some insight into the man behind the magic. 

I don’t know how to describe the doc exactly, but it’s definitely unusual. And I like that it’s mild. No fistfights or gigs that end in shambles. There's other places to find that.

Of course there’s the talking head appearances from Springsteen and the usual suspects. 

Bottom line, I came out of it inspired. And you might too.

I think there’s a way we sing. When we’re in a car alone. I think there’s a way we talk when we’re in a car going down the road with someone we feel comfortable with. And in this film we’re tagging along in this car journey with Brian and a pal. And more is revealed somehow. It’s unlike anything I’d seen – there’s this honesty, and nakedness that this film achieves. Making it a rare entry into the Beach Boys deep canon. 

Bear with me here for a minute. There was a San Francisco comedian back in the day who liked to say that they should legalize marijuana, if for only one reason: Cheech and Chong would have to stop making those stupid movies. That’s how I feel about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Make it stop so I don’t have to listen to all the bellyaching. Oh, the outrage! John Stamos is not in the Hall of Fame? It’s a travesty!! Wrapped in an enigma. With extra guacamole.

PS: We caught Brian Wilson a few years back. In Oakland. With a phenomenal band. The details they got right when playing the old songs. It was unreal. Today Brian has his detractors. People that think he should’ve retired a long time ago. Some can’t remember the last time they saw him really engaged with an audience or the other musicians. Others say his organization is only there for the paycheck. But, maybe being out there playing is keeping him alive? I don’t have any strong feelings about that. I really don’t understand these things. But curious if he’s still out there touring, I looked around and it doesn’t seem like he has any upcoming dates. There is, though something you might want to not miss: Al Jardine and Friends, coming up in Modesto. Schedule permitting, I just might be there.

Once again it would seem you’ve made it this far into the great Substack experiment. In which case, why not become a paid subscriber today if you’re not already? It would mean a lot to me. Or you can just carry on with the free model. Either way, we’re happy to have you. 

Onwards
–CP