Your Favorite Song Plays Forever: PET SOUNDS

"They say I got brains, but they ain't doing me no good, I wish they could..."

I fucking hate "Kokomo."

Thanks to "Kokomo," whenever I say things like "The Beach Boys kick-ass" people think I'm joking. Or out of my fucking mind.

But back in the 1960's, before the dust had settled (and Brian Wilson completely lost his mind) The Beach Boys were in direct competition with The Beatles. History tells us that The Beatles were able to surpass The Beach Boys, and ultimately became the greatest rock band in history (arguably) but that outcome wasn't always certain. At one time, The Beach Boys had The Beatles on the run.

The year was 1965, and The Beatles had just released their first truly "grown-up" record REVOLVER. A non-touring, drug addled Brian Wilson listened to what the fab four had done and was moved. The Beatles had crafted an album whose parts added up to a (somewhat) larger whole. Rather than play by the traditional album rules where a handful of singles were anchored by "filler," REVOLVER was a full album of complex, interesting songs. Challenged by what he heard, Wilson decided to roll up his sleeves and top what the Englishmen had done.

Several months later in May of 1966, The Beach Boys released PET SOUNDS.

Although it carries the name "Beach Boys," PET SOUNDS may as well be a Brian Wilson solo record. Wilson had been toying with going solo, and the majority of the songs on PET SOUNDS were written and arranged by Wilson and his then-collaborator Tony Asher. While the rest of the band toured Japan and Hawaii, Wilson and Asher toiled in the studios.

When I say "Beach Boys" I bet you think surfing, cars, girls, and "fun, fun, fun" right? While those things are...well...fun, they don't really strike an emotional chord deep within the soul. When I'm feeling sad because the world is unfair or I'm having problems with the woman I love, I don't want to hear about some bitch's T-bird.

And when I doubt myself and the direction my life is taking, I don't want to hear "Kokomo." Actually, there's never a time when I want to hear "Kokomo."

I want to hear PET SOUNDS.

PET SOUNDS is one man taking a knife and gutting his soul. With bitchin' harmonies and an intricate, crazy-ass production. I'm not ashamed to say that I've listened to PET SOUNDS over 100 times in the past 6 months (which is when I "discovered" it by accident). I'm also perfectly willing to admit (as a BEATLE-MANIAC) that PET SOUNDS is 1000% better than SGT. PEPPER (which was the album Paul and John crafted after hearing PET SOUNDS).

PET SOUNDS is full of self-realization ("That's Not Me"), rejection of selfishness ("I Know There's An Answer"), and the awe one feels in the presence of love...not that bullshit kind you see in movies, but the actual thing ("God Only Knows" one of the first commercial songs to feature "God" in the title).

PET SOUNDS lets me know that it's okay that I'm not perfect, and that I'm not alone when I feel loneliness and disappointment ("I Guess I Just Wasn't Made For These Times" a fantastic song about trying and failing to fit in). SGT. PEPPER is a damn fine record, but if I was despondent, it wouldn't stop me from killing myself--but PET SOUNDS would. PET SOUNDS is like that older brother who sees you're having trouble and takes you aside and says "Look, I've been there...it'll get better...probably."

Sure, there are a few "throw-away" tracks. Things that the record company insisted Wilson add to increase sales (like the cover of the West Indies traditional song "Sloop John B" and the sadly immature "Wouldn't It Be Nice"). But overall, PET SOUNDS as a whole, cohesive unit, is about one man pouring his guts out--the ugliness, the insecurity, the doubt. PET SOUNDS is love, disappointment, and modern-day confusion. I feel all these things almost every day.

The love songs of PET SOUNDS are (with the glaring exception of "Wouldn't It Be Nice") vastly more mature than anything else on the radio at the time. Songs like "You Still Believe in Me" (about recognizing a partner's loyalty and patience even when you've acted less-than-stellar) and "God Only Knows" are realistic examinations of love and relationships.

What does SGT. PEPPER offer the listener? The album has been hailed for decades as a "concept album," but I ask you--what is that concept? Is it that The Beatles are pretending to be this other/fake band and the record is supposed to "be" Sgt. Pepper and his band (and not The Beatles)? That may have been the album's conceit, but other than the first two songs (and the reprise just before the end) there is little else on the record that functions as "another band's song."

For me, SGT. PEPPER is an amazingly intricate rock record. It's the greatest band ever at the top of their game. But to call SGT. PEPPER a unified work of art is a bit much. PET SOUNDS has a few tracks that aren't quite "on program," but in general, I find it much more cohesive than The Beatles album.

And those tracks that do "stray" from the theme of loneliness and self-reflection were forced upon Wilson (ala "Sloop John B") to sell more records--and make PET SOUNDS "more commercial." But being more thematic than SGT. PEPPER isn't all that makes it better, in my opinion. While it can be said that PET SOUNDS was not 100% Brian Wilson (and his immense will), Wilson was not Paul McCartney--he didn't have John Lennon sitting beside him when he crafted his record.

With two geniuses in The Beatles (although there were three, though at the time George was still hiding in the shadow of Lennon/McCartney) SGT. PEPPER should be twice as fantastic and thought provoking as PET SOUNDS...and quite frankly, it's not.

The Beatles made more classic albums, but for a brief 37 minutes, one man trumped them. The next time you're at a place where music is sold, for crying out loud do yourself a favor and pick-up the greatest piece of pop music of all time. Pick-up PET SOUNDS.

My Second Pilgrimage to ‘Macca’

EDIT: BY STRANGE COINCIDENCE, I JUST LEARNED THAT TODAY IS PAUL'S 68TH BIRTHDAY. HAPPY BIRTHDAY PAUL!

Growing up, some of my best memories were of listening to The Beatles. In the early 1990’s, my Uncle David bought my parents their first CD player (which was roughly the size of a VCR). He bought them two “compact discs” to go with their new player—“A Decade of Steely Dan” (which I’ve only just recently learned to appreciate) and The Beatles album “Revolver.” My sister Amber and I used to crank up “Revolver” while we were home alone...

There was much couch jumping.

In 1993 Paul McCartney came to Kansas City to promote his then-current album "Off the Ground." Even though I knew very little about The Beatles, I knew that this was a big deal. My parents had never taken us to a concert before, so I didn’t know what to expect when my parents told us we were going. I was in elementary school, so while I don’t recall 100% of the show, it had a profound effect on me. I started buying records (cd’s) shortly after the concert. I started accumulating all the other Beatles albums (which I gave to my other sister Lindsey, after I got the remastered boxset a year ago).

I've been to a lot concerts since that Sunday night in 1993, but none have compared to McCartney’s show. I guess it's true what they say--you never forget your first time.

The concert was at Arrowhead Stadium and I remember there was no opening act—McCartney just got on stage and started playing “Drive My Car.” I only later came to understand how strange this was (most bands today usually have TWO opening acts). I also think there was an intermission (though I can’t be sure about that). I do know that it was light outside when the show started and nearly 11:00 at night when it was over.

Who knew that Muslims really do love him do?

While the show is a bit blurry I can recall a few key moments. Like the fireworks during “Live and Let Die,” and the really cool neon-lighted/psychedelic piano that Paul played during “Magical Mystery Tour.”

When I found out my Mom was pregnant a few years later, I became determined to make my unborn sibling a Beatles fan. I used to put headphones on my Mom’s belly and play Beatles albums. I’m not sure if Lindsey had a choice, but she has since grown up liking the Fab Four. A few years ago, while I was still in college I took her to see 1964 A Tribute, which is a Beatles tribute band I’d seen a few years earlier.

I made sure we sat up in the balcony so it’d be kinda hard to tell they weren’t the real deal. And while 1964 is fantastic, nothing beats the real thing. I missed the boat on seeing The Beatles because I was born too late which still kinda bums me out. I guess that's about as good an excuse as one could have, but it still smarts. Seeing McCartney was as close to seeing The Beatles as I could ever get, and I’ve always felt bad that Lindsey didn’t get the opportunity I had.

After all, McCartney is still alive. And touring.

So I every year I’d check and see if McCartney was coming anywhere near Missouri. I missed him once, in St. Louis (oddly enough) because I found out about the show too late to go. I swore I'd never let that happen again. Which is why I'm happy to report that on Saturday July 24, 2010 I’m going to see Paul McCartney once more in Kansas City. The show is going to be at the new Sprint Center (downtown), which I’ve never been to before, which adds another (albeit small) layer of excitement to the show.

But the real reason I’m excited isn't because I'm seeing Paul McCartney, the legend, live in concert one last time. And it's not because I get to go inside a shiny new concert venue…

No, I’m excited because I’m taking Lindsey with me. Luckily for her, she’s a hell of a lot older than I was when I saw him, so hopefully she’ll remember more than I did. The tickets were, as expected, way too expensive (I think I owe Paul McCartney a kidney for these damn seats) but we’re going. And it’s going to be great.

Funeral Arrangements (Is This Too Morbid?)

It’s going to happen, sooner or later. Someday, hopefully many years from now…I’m going to die. Like all Good Americans, I don’t like to dwell too much on death (just kidding! Yes we do). When my soul shrugs off this bulky, pale husk I have a few requests about what comes next. As I am too poor and lazy to get my “final request” transcribed by some sort of legal entity, I’m relying on this blog post to act as a sort of message-in-a-bottle.

As many of you know, I’m not very religious. In fact, I’m not religious at all. For this reason, I don’t want a traditional “service” before I am laid to rest.

What I’d like instead, is a bit simpler:

1. Everyone in attendance is to receive 4 ounces of red Play-Doh (or similar modeling clay). This clay is to be opened and played with during the “ceremony.”

2. All parties in attendance are to not wear ties or jackets/blazers. Casual attire is to be worn.

3. Bagpipe music** is to play ten minutes before the “ceremony” begins.

4. My eulogy is to be delivered by a male relative (preferably my eldest son). If no male relatives can be found, find a dog (Labrador preferred) and have him sit before the mourners (nothing will be said).

5. Please display a variety of photos/odd video clips that you have of me. Try to mix it up and show a wide selection of my life, but when in doubt—go with the “Young Jason” rather than the older, fatter, “Vegas years Jason.”

6. Once the photos have been displayed, allow ten minutes for everyone in attendance to get up and say something (anything) about me. Please do not allow anyone I’ve slept with to speak (with the exception of my wife).

7. After the recollections of those in attendance, a selection of my various writings can be read (but please, not this post).

8. The ceremony is to be capped off by a rousing musical number! Please play the entire B-Side of ABBEY ROAD. If using a CD or MP3 file, please note that the medley begins at “You Never Give Me Your Money” and ends with “Her Majesty.” This should be played at the loudest possible volume.

9. Dispense cheap lighters.

10. Play “Stairway to Heaven” by Led Zeppelin (use lighters)—this will conclude the “ceremony.”

Of course, there are other things to consider: like what happens to my body once the “ceremony” is complete.

Because I have married someone with a religious preference, our bodies will not be allowed to be buried together. As in life, I will be the one to compromise on this issue. Since this Pharaoh will not need his bones in the next “whatever,” just cremate my remains and sprinkle them atop my wife’s grave. Hopefully she will still be alive longer after I am dead, so just save them. If sprinkling my ashes is somehow offensive to her faith, and is not allowed…fuck that, do it anyway. If you have to sneak around to do it that’s okay. In fact, sneak around anyway. I’m all about respecting people’s faith, but I think it’s bullshit that a religion would actively try to keep a married couple apart—especially in death.

That’s not so much to ask is it? Play-Doh, ABBEY ROAD medley, cremation, desecration of a Jewish cemetery. I’ve tried to keep it nice and simple.

** "Mull of Kintyre"