Sometimes, in the midst of chaos, I find solace in music. It doesn’t have to be soft music. Play me some classic rock ‘n soul, and suddenly I’m in a less stressful place and time.

We have recently lost two artists who created magical moments like few others. Sly Stone and Brian Wilson were at their creative peak in their twenties. Both were fueled by traumatic incidents in their lives, and the drugs they took to cope. Both, against great odds, lived to be 82. And both left a lasting legacy with songs that started out in their heads, and soon became ingrained in our lives.
Sly Stone was a radio deejay who figured out he could create music as good or better than the records he was spinning. During an era in which bands were made up of either one race or the other, Sly recruited family members, friends, and great musicians to make up his “Family Stone.” Television viewers were taken aback by the sight of men, women, Blacks and Whites in the same band.
In “Everyday People,” Sly and his musical family sang, “We got to live together. I am no better, and neither are you. We are the same, whatever we do.” Almost sixty years later, many of us still have to be reminded of this. Sly certainly did his part.
He created a style of music that influenced Prince, Outkast, Earth Wind and Fire and so many others. Without him, there would have been no them. Thank you Sly.

Brian Wilson’s story has been well documented in articles, books, and movies. The shy, gawky kid genius was physically and verbally abused by a controlling father. His escape was music, and he took his two younger brothers, a cousin and a friend along for a “Beach Boys” ride.
Much like John Fogerty making Cajun-style music even though he had never been east of the Rockies, Brian Wilson made the best surfing songs a non-surfer could possibly make.
In the midst of the 1960s British Invasion and Motown mania, the five California kids gave the Beatles and the Supremes plenty of competition for radio airplay and record sales. None other than Paul McCartney admitted the Beach Boys made the Beatles better by forcing them to keep up with Brian’s studio innovations. Of Brian’s masterpiece single “God Only Knows,” McCartney said, “It’s as close as possible to the perfect pop song, and it’s certainly the most beautiful.”
So, it can accurately be said that Brian Wilson’s own great songs encouraged competing artists to make their music better too. How’s that for a legacy?
Capitol Records, the Beach Boys’ label, was distressed that it took two months of unprecedented studio time and expense for Brian to finish the three-minute song “Good Vibrations.”
This was an era in which hit singles were routinely cranked out in a few hours. Millions of record buyers convinced Capitol that it was time well spent.
When you listen to Beach Boys hits, notice the little things, like how almost every song begins with the word, “Well.” As in, “Well, east coast girls are hip,” and “Well, it’s been building up inside of me,” and so on.
Why? Brian wrote those songs as if he were talking to a friend. And often, those conversations would begin with a casual, “Well…” He had us from the first word.
The irony in Brian’s life is obvious. From the battered days of his childhood, to decades of drug use, to waves of loneliness. This is the man who retreated from a sold-out concert tour to build a sandbox in his bedroom, which served as his safe place for years. He was never comfortable in the spotlight. Both of his brothers died young. Drummer Dennis drowned at 39, and angelic-voiced Carl died of lung cancer at 51. Sadly, Brian spent much of the past three decades feuding with some of the remaining band members.
It is remarkable that a man with so many struggles somehow managed to make more people happy than any recording artist in history. Life wasn’t easy for Brian Wilson, but we owe him many thanks for putting so much fun, fun, fun in our lives.