On Hating Mike Love
You could say I am a pretty big Beach Boys fan.
I came to the group late in my mid twenties, having learned that my faves The Beatles were jealous about the musical powers of Brian Wilson. I thought that was odd, because to me up until then they had always been little more than a novelty act.
As many of you know, that is not the case. Listening to Pet Sounds for the first time changed my life a little. It’s definitely on my list of musical epiphanies. The arrangements and the harmonies were almost magical to me.
Time’s not been kind to the boys. Brian Wilson’s cheese fell off his cracker in the seventies, and the Beach Boys became that novelty act I suspected them of being.
That second part is Mike Love’s fault. That guy’s a fucking dick, milking his old act for every buck he can get. He has worked hard over the years to disenfranchise his troubled cousin Brian because he was not stable enough for touring. I don’t completely fault him for that; I went to see Wilson on the Pet Sounds 50th anniversary tour, and he was a sad sight, ruining all the special work he created with what I’d kindly call a lackluster performance.
Still, I have always resented Love for his viciousness towards Brian and his shameless carrying-on without the genius that brought the Boys to stardom.
And now he’s become a Trumpster. Who saw that coming? Selling his legacy out to help that imbecilic boob of a non-president is not surprising I suppose; he’s never been much possessed of scruples. But I’m sad and angry about it all. The whole lot of them should hang it up and no one should give any of them another dime.
Fuck Mike Love. Real hard.
How did the boomer generation go from acid and free love to this? Was it rehab and gonorrhea? I’ll never understand it.