I talked earlier of how I felt validated in 1975, as a musician. It is a transformative experience, that does actually validate one's soul. This is because when you play music, and particularly when you write the songs, it exposes every last atom of your being, and opens the door for inspection. And you are so incredibly vulnerable, it is very difficult to adequately describe the fear and terror. Hell, you may as well walk out onstage naked.
Once you strap on the guitar and pick a note, and especially when you open your mouth and sing a note, you are just hanging it out there for all to see. And we humans are very critical by nature. So you sweat bullets.
Well maybe I'm late to the party, but I saw something that had happened in 2004, to which I was oblivious. 2004 was a strange year anyway, as I was getting used to a new drug regiment that included methadone, and for months it seems all I did was sleep. Methadone is a horrible drug, but also very effective to kill pain. Anyway, suffice to say there is a good reason I missed the event of which I am about to speak.
Again, it is about validation, though this time not my own. This time I want to talk about a huge influence on my journey through music, and what is in my heart. More explicitly, who is in my heart. And that is Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys.
While it is true that as a young child, I liked Elvis. I really got involved in wanting to make music from two artists. Ricky Nelson and Brian Wilson. They were my early role models. And Brian Wilson, brothers and friends, caused me to examine harmony for the first time. Obviously the Beach Boys were one of the greatest vocal bands ever, but that isn't what we will discuss.
I want to talk about the all out hang out of playing music. Music can be a lover, a friend, a companion, but it also can be a goblin, a nemesis and a devil. Most musicians meet their Waterloo at some point, in the way of a piece of music you can envision, but not play. It seems too difficult. It seems like a wall which has no top. A wall you cannot scale. Brian met his with his album called Smile.
He began that endeavor around 1967, and finished it in 2004. And along the way, that music sent him to therapy often. I think I completely understand where his head was located. Your mind can hear it, and can even hear yourself doing it, but you can't seem to translate that from head to hands and throat. And it had always worked before, but now was broken.
I suppose it is a bit like we all feel, when our mind thinks we are twenty, but the body is forty five, and you can't do those things anymore. Well, it gets worse. My mind still thinks it is young, but my body says to do the math. An insurmountable wall of music can act the same way. You could do that yesterday, but can't today. And you can't blame the aging process for this one.
So what Brian did in 04, is more than just astounding, perhaps miraculous. He faced down the demon that had been inside his head for decades. And he walked out the other side, again complete. By performing this music in London, he'd scaled the insurmountable wall of his own making. So impressive.
So I could see, while watching this video, the change in Brian's eyes as the night progressed. And I recognized that look in his eyes. I could feel that look, and the emotion behind it. This is how it goes. On the first song, you are so nervous, but when the music begins you go to your happy place. And after the first few notes, this music begins to feel like a comfortable slipper. So you slide your feet in, and before you know it your toes are nice and warm, and you are just playing.
And then the crowd seems to like it, and your energy level takes off like a rocket. There is no comparable rush to obtain by using any drug. And it isn't an ego trip per se, but more like a very deep and intense satisfaction. A task accomplished. And the bigger the task, the more satisfaction, or validation if you will.
Well Brian finally finished his album, performed it to an amazing audience that included Paul McCartney, and wowed them. Like when Paul is in the audience jumping and clapping, just like the plumber, fireman and postman next to him. It was as if he'd never played, but simply gone to a great concert. It must have been amazing for Brian Wilson. And it is amazing for me, and it makes me very happy as well. And it is strange because it happened over ten years ago, though I just found out.
I can relate to this, as I'm sure that every reader can as well. We have all conquered a demon or two, usually. We've all accomplished something we thought we could not, hopefully. And we've all experienced the deep satisfaction and validation of work well done and appreciated, hopefully.
I have to say that when that validation comes in the form of thousands of cheering people, it is pretty overpowering. They may not realize what they did, but you do.
I feel so happy right now, after watching that concert. It is almost as intense as it was forty years ago for me, the rush that accompanies something like what you know Brian was feeling. I have been lucky enough to be in the crowd for a few of those moments. One that comes to mind is watching Willie Nelson transform onstage, from a grieving friend to one delighting in honoring the subject of that grief. In this case for Willie it was the very recent death of his buddy, Waylon Jennings.
Quite often an audience doesn't realize the effect they've had on the performer. When the audience demands an encore, we notice that. It may just seem like a formality, but it isn't. Not to a performer. And I think we spend our lives doing things for people, of which we are unaware. We all do those things on a regular basis, while not knowing. It is good to remember that your most mundane act, could have the butterfly effect. It could be something you didn't even notice, that changed someones world.
I suppose now is the time to talk the golden rule. Do unto others. Well Paul McCartney did that for Brian Wilson in 2004. And some crowd probably did that for Paul, too. Paul reacted like everyone else in that audience, and the only difference is that the camera shot him more often. But it wasn't Paul who probably had the largest effect on Brian, but the plumber standing next to Paul, or whomever. Judging by Paul's reaction, I bet he knew what Brian was feeling. I know I did. And it is powerful, when people are so kind.
I suppose the lesson is that one should really try to practice the golden rule all the time. Being human, that is probably beyond our reach. But we should strive to do that. And a reminder is always a good thing. Because tomorrow when you step our your door, or maybe before that, you might change someones world. I hope you change it for the good.
Tonight I'll sleep well, thinking of Brian's experience in 04. And thinking of my own experience. And waxing so nostalgic, you are probably sick of reading this. But tomorrow, I hope the world that changes is your own. And I hope the people responsible have it happen to them as well. In fact, I'm pretty sure there is a potential snowball effect there. And it all begins with you. Goodnight.
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