Really Good Vibrations: Inside Brian Wilson's Smile with David Leaf
- Josh Kitchen
- Apr 9
- 14 min read
Updated: 4 days ago
By: Josh Kitchen / April 9, 2025
On February 20, 2004, at the Royal Festival Hall in London, the theater was dark, and the curtains opened. Brian Wilson, the American musical genius behind arguably the greatest songbook in pop music, sat at his keyboard shrouded in darkness as he and his band began harmonizing to "Our Prayer," the opening track of his lost masterpiece, SMiLE. As he and the band finished the angelic two-minute hymn, the lights came on and the band launched into the classic Beach Boys track, "Heroes and Villains," Wilson smiling wide with what every audience member could see in his eyes - pure joy. Long-time Beach Boys fanatics thought this day would never come. Brian Wilson Presents SMiLE would triumphantly be released in September of that year to universal acclaim.
Smile, the followup to the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds, was the great album that never was, Wilson abandoned it in 1967 for a myriad of reasons—from resistance within the band to his mental health struggles. The details of these are examined in detail, along with the entire history of Wilson and the Beach Boys, and can be found in David Leaf's God Only Knows: The Story of Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys and the California Myth — first published in 1978 with a massive update and reissue in 2022.
David Leaf's story is one we can all relate to. Have you ever wanted to ask your musical hero a question? Wanted to get into their head? Leaf did just that after discovering The Beach Boys as a teen and falling in love and then moving to Los Angeles in the early 1970's. He would go on to become a lifelong worshipper at the altar of Brian Wilson, not only becoming a trusted biographer within the band, but a lifelong friend of Wilson and his family.
On April 15, Leaf releases something of a follow-up to The Myth in Smile: The Rise, Fall, and Resurrection of Brian Wilson. The Myth is vast, and covers Wilson and the Beach Boys' entire careers and discographies. Between then, Leaf also released a documentary about the concert and making of Wilson's Smile, Beautiful Dreamer. The new Smile book is the story of Smile and how and why it was shelved, and how in the twenty years since Brian Wilson Presents Smile was released, Wilson would have a prolific recording and touring second act, only retiring from touring two years ago. Smile ultimately came out the way Wilson always intended it to be heard, fully realized and supported by a band who who not only loves the music he gave them, but with a reverence and honor for Brian Wilson - the human being. I was lucky enough to have a wide-ranging chat with Leaf ahead of the American release of the book, and we touched on why he decided to put this book out now, the crucial cast of characters in the resurrection of Smile like Darian Sahanaja, Probyn Gregory, & Jeffrey Foskett, and how Smile represents a story of resilience, genius, courage, and faith.
First you published The Myth, then you released the Beautiful Dreamer. When did you know you had to write this new book?
I had no intention of writing this book. My goal was to get all of the archival material I have out into the world for anybody who wanted to know more—for future generations. We know that if there are universities and music scholars, Brian Wilson will be studied, and Smile will certainly be at the center of that.
So I said to the editor-in-chief at Omnibus, for the 20th anniversary of Brian Wilson Presents Smile, I’d like to do a book celebrating that and put out all the interviews I did for Beautiful Dreamer about Brian Wilson and the story of Smile. Because in a documentary, you only get soundbites. Some people I interviewed didn’t even make the movie—like Rufus Wainwright, Phil Ramone, Page from Barenaked Ladies. Just a bunch of people who didn’t get in.
He said, “No, interview books don’t do well for us.” But if I’d do it as an oral history, they’d be interested. My heart sank because that meant piecing together thousands of quotes to tell the story—as well as doing 25 new interviews. But I’m glad he pushed for that, because I think this is a whole lot better than what my idea was. My idea wasn’t as good as what this became.
Early in the book, I talk about how this was an opportunity for other voices to be heard. There’s an anthology in the back of the book of a dozen commissioned essays, all the new interviews with the living members of Brian’s band, and people I didn’t interview for Beautiful Dreamer. There’s even a chapter of just fan reminiscences, looking back 20 years later on what it was like to be at the Royal Festival Hall.
I really didn’t want to write about ’66 and ’67 again. But the editor said I had to—you have to set up what happened to give us a reason to celebrate 2004. So I did. But I didn’t re-read The Beach Boys and the California Myth, or the update, or watch Beautiful Dreamer. I just started from scratch with this giant pile of interview transcripts.
There was stuff in there that surprised me, like David Crosby going up to Brian’s house to hear what Brian was working on—so he would know what The Byrds might be up against. At least, fascinating to me.
For those who don’t know, in addition to being a writer and filmmaker, you’re also a professor at UCLA’s Herb Alpert School of Music. You have a class on Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys. Did it feel like one of your own students, having to go back and research?
This would be a thesis project. I did not feel like one of my students. They would drop the class if they knew there was this much work. But I did feel like someone digging deeply into something I thought I was done with.
All the emotions of it were stirred up again. What surprised me most—and “proud” might be the right word—is that I had done so many interviews with Brian, the band, Van Dyke Parks (who wrote the lyrics on Smile), and others before the world premiere in London. As I was piecing it all together, telling the story of what happened in 2003 and 2004, I sent it to the editor and copy editor, who gave notes.
This process went on maybe a dozen times. And each time I read the book, I was surprised—like, “What’s going to happen?” Even though we know this book is about the triumph of 2004, each time I still felt the drama. Like: Is he going to walk up those steps at the Royal Festival Hall and do this?
For those who aren’t aware—Brian Wilson's story is long and winding and filled with incredible highs and heartbreaking lows, starting with The Beach Boys and their surf music filled with images of girls and cars, “California Girls”—then Brian makes Pet Sounds, his "pocket symphony to God." He’s a musical genius with all these sounds in his head that he wants to get out. Smile in ’66-’67 doesn’t happen—it becomes too immense for him and those around him. I think for fans, the people who worship at the altar of Brian Wilson, as you like to say, Smile feels like the end game. It’s what we’re all aspiring to. That’s what I love about it. To me, It's a story of resilience, genius, courage, and faith. There’s a quote by Matisse you included in the book on page 165—‘Creativity takes courage.’ Bruce Springsteen sings: ‘Faith will be rewarded.’ That’s what Smile feels like to me.
I think that’s a great description.You know, there weren’t a lot of us in the church of Brian Wilson in the ’70s, ’80s, and ’90s, but those of us who believed in Smile and its importance had this sense that if he ever could do something with it, it would free him—to make great new music again. We weren’t just mourning the loss of Smile we were mourning the death of Brian as a competitive, groundbreaking artist.
So flying back to London years later for the world premiere of That Lucky Old Sun—and then the Gershwin album—that was incredibly rewarding. Maybe not as monumental as Smile, but it was what we had hoped for. Once this albatross had been lifted—as he said, “the demons left me”—he found joy in making music again. And I think he really did.
What really allowed him to do it was critical mass and unconditional love. He was surrounded by people who gave him emotional security—not based on whether he had made any hits lately. It was: “We love you, Brian—even if you never make another record.” That was new for him. He had never experienced that. So he came back to himself, if that makes sense.
Even though there’s a certain Humpty Dumpty-esque quality to it, when it came to Smile, he did what he needed to do. With Darian Sahanaja, the emergency calls to Van Dyke Parks for last-minute help, and a band that had proven on the Pet Sounds tour they could play his arrangements note-perfect and with feeling.
You talk about the people who loved and supported him—that includes you. Thank God for David Leaf! You came into the picture in the mid-’70s seeking the California Dream, the myth. You didn’t just write about it—you became close in Brian’s life. People like his wife Melinda who helped save his life. Darian, too—you mention your book influenced him when he was young, and now he’s this musical guru helping to get Smile released.
Darian is so important in the story. He, Probyn, and the late Nick Walusko—let’s start with the fact that they’re great people. Just really good people.
You can see that in Beautiful Dreamer—the way they interact with Brian with such reverence and respect.
Exactly. In my classes at UCLA, students ask me how things happen. I tell them: remember setting up 1,000 dominoes as a kid? You knock them down, but if you take out a few, it doesn’t happen. The fact that Darian’s high school library bought a copy of my book—that’s a domino. That Darian read it—that’s a domino. That he has long fingers and can play really complex chords—that’s a domino. There are so many of those moments in the story, I had to write a book about it.
Darian's voice! When he sings “Darlin’,” it’s angelic. Darian, Jeffrey Foskett—God rest his soul—and Matt Jardine. But especially those early members—their voices complemented Brian’s so well. Hearing Brian Wilson live with that band, it felt like experiencing the music the way he wanted you to hear it. That probably wouldn’t have happened without Darian and the Wondermints.
You used the word “reverence” earlier. There’s a moment in the story—when the band first got together in Chicago—where someone thought they should “contemporize” the music, make it smooth jazz or something. And—no. That’s not what was going to happen.
When you go to that first concert—maybe the first song was “The Little Girl I Once Knew,”—it’s like, “Holy shit.” These songs I know like the back of my hand are being played note-perfect. There’s Brian singing them. Sometimes with great joy. Sometimes he’s having a bad day. But still—it’s Brian Wilson.
It’s a visitation. You’re in the room. And the combination of musicians—The Wondermints, the Chicago players, and Jeffrey Foskett in the middle—was perfect. Jeffrey bridged the gap; he brought Carl Wilson’s voice to the concert. It just gelled wonderfully.
In your book, you talk about the 2011 release of The Smile Sessions as a Beach Boys box set. You describe finding it difficult, upsetting even, because of what happened in ’67. I hadn’t heard it that way before, but I felt similarly. I got Brian Wilson Presents SMiLE when it came out in 2004—it felt like the Second Coming—it was everything. So when the 2011 box was announced, I was a little apprehensive. I love hearing all the archival material, but for me, the definitive version of Smile is Brian's. Brian’s voice, the sequencing, the production—that’s it.
It’s unfortunate that the original Smile sessions didn’t come out in ’67 in a way that would’ve been satisfying for Brian. It was just impossible. Dylan had just put out Blonde on Blonde in ’66, but nobody had released an unfinished album in 1967. Brian wasn’t ready to release it. As the composer, arranger, and producer, it was his call. His call to shelve it.
In Beautiful Dreamer, he lists four reasons he wasn’t willing to put it out. I came up with six or seven more in the book. Maybe it was all of them. Maybe others we don’t know. But the circumstances made it impossible. Because if someone else had tried to put it out, that would’ve been a different kind of disaster.
But even though Smile wasn’t released, we still got bits and pieces, on Smiley Smile, 20/20, and of course Surf’s Up. You talk about dominoes—if Smile had come out, what would those albums have looked like? Surf’s Up, to me, works completely the way it’s presented.
I think I wrote in the book—it all happened the way it had to happen. Horrible for Brian - Triumphant in the end. Makes for a great story. But he’s a human being—and that’s what started me on my journey in 1971. When I read that Rolling Stone article by Tom Nolan, I was in my youthful outrage phase. I thought, “This isn’t right.”
Here’s Brian being used for publicity for an album featuring a song they once told him shouldn’t come out. I was so upset. My roommate said, “If you’re so upset, why don’t you go out there and do something about it?” So, I had this notion: move to California, write a book about Brian Wilson, become his friend, and help finish Smile.
Thank God for youthful rage.
Now I’m just an elder statesman who remembers it. But yes—that passion drove me. I went to the college newspaper after Surf’s Up came out and said, “Can I write a review?” I had only written sports articles before. By graduation, I was music editor. I was writing 250-word bits. The idea of writing a book? That seemed impossible. But there I was in my apartment, snipping pieces of interview transcripts, putting them in folders marked ’62, ’63, ’64, etc.—trying to figure out how to tell the story.
You talk about youth. What I love about Smile—and so much of Brian’s music—is that it’s full of innocence. There’s a feeling of playfulness in Smile, especially with Van Dyke Parks’ lyrics. There’s also a sense of humor people don’t always associate with Brian. You mention this in your earlier book. Can you talk a bit about that?
It’s hard to explain Brian’s humor better than his friends do. One of them says in the book that Brian always made the joke about himself. There was no cruelty. No dark edge. He just wanted people to laugh. He loved the sound of laughter.
One of my most prized possessions: in the ’90s, Brian went to a Hollywood souvenir shop and bought two fake Oscars—cheap statues. One says “World’s Greatest Writer,” the other says “World’s Greatest Comic.” He gave them to me. There’s a silliness to him. A sweetness. When we were recording Brian Wilson Presents Smile and I was in the booth with the camera crew, he called me out during “Barnyard” to be an animal. I was trying to be a sheep, but everyone says I sounded like a goat. From where I started in ’71 to being in the studio with Brian in 2004, making Smile—it was a gift. He didn’t need me out there. He had plenty of people. But he brought me in. That’s Brian.
People couldn’t believe that one guy was doing everything—writing, arranging, producing, singing. I remember talking to Sir George Martin, and he didn’t realize Brian sang on the records. He said, “One person has that much talent? That’s not fair.” And he meant it kindly. George Martin knew what he had done with The Beatles, but Brian’s achievements were just staggering.
That’s what I love about seeing Brian in concert. One moment he's playing something incredibly complex like, “Surf’s Up,” and three songs later it’s “Row, Row, Row Your Boat”—sing-along style. That juxtaposition is so pure and profound. Like Derek Taylor's famous publicity campaign declared—Brian Wilson is a Genius. He has both extremes in him. And the most mind-blowing part—he was in his twenties when he made Pet Sounds and Smile.
Exactly. When he shelved Smile, he wasn’t even 24. It’s unbelievable. And yet, he still came through later—on the Redwood recordings, with songs like “Time to Get Alone,” which is as good as anything on Smile. Or “Can’t Wait Too Long.”
One of my favorite parts of the book is an essay by writer Charlotte Martin. She didn’t even hear Smile until about five or six years ago, but it ended up saving her life. Her story is so powerful. I don’t want to spoil it for readers, but she goes through this incredibly intense personal experience—and the music, especially “Surf’s Up” and “’Til I Die,” becomes a lifeline for her. It’s like the music reached her soul in exactly the way she needed it. And while not everyone may have a story quite as extreme, I think it’s fair to say this music—Smile, and Brian’s work more broadly—has saved people. Literally saved lives.
I’m so glad to hear you say that. Her essay really affected me, too. And what was so startling—almost haunting in a beautiful way—was that the same two songs that helped save her in the 21st century were the exact same songs that launched me on my journey back in 1971. “’Til I Die” and “Surf’s Up.” It was this full-circle moment that reminded me how timeless and emotionally potent Brian’s music really is. Across generations, across wildly different life experiences—it still connects in that deep, spiritual way.
It reminded me of my favorite scene in Love & Mercy—Brian stuck in bed in the mid-seventies, and they play that remix of “’Til I Die.” That moment really sticks.
Well, the sad conclusion that I've come to with all of this is that had he not had the upbringing that he had—the tragic upbringing—we would not have got music with this much power and depth and emotion and feeling. So the world benefits from the fact that this man had to suffer. And so there's something about the notion that great art comes from great pain. All of those things seem to be inhabited in Brian Wilson's story. And yet, he can say something as simple as, ‘Well, you know, whatever happens, there's always going to be something to eat."
To close, I am left with this thought:
Through all that suffering, Brian Wilson gave us music that healed us. To me, that’s the paradox of Brian. The more you understand what he went through, the more astonishing the music becomes. Not just because he survived it, but because he turned that darkness into light.
To Order Smile: The Rise, Fall, and Resurrection of Brian Wilson:
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/4fI5kmg
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/49czwn1
In addition, Book Soup in West Hollywood will welcome David Leaf on May 13th at 7 p.m. He'll be there to talk about the book and will be joined in a Q&A with veteran L.A. Times pop music journalist Randy Lewis.
Get tickets here: https://www.booksoup.com/event/david-leaf-conversation-randy-lewis-discusses-signs-smile-rise-fall-and-resurrection-brian
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