Little bracelets.
Limits remain for what I want to revisit on the topic of Dennis Wilson. There are interviews online behind paywalls. I still own magazines with interviews. I’ve got lots of books with quotes or partial/full interviews. Considering the (just over) twenty years of his work as a Beach Boy and a solo artist, Dennis really didn’t give a lot of interviews. From my perspective: He didn’t talk about music, he made it. He didn’t talk about relationships, he had them. He didn’t pontificate about life, he lived it. Everything we need to hear from Dennis is in what he wrote, either lyrically or instrumentally: fun, energy, celebration, sex, soul, passion, tenderness, rowdiness, and love.
The times he came alive the most in interviews were when he talked about his brothers. When I read those, I’m reminded of a hot Houston night when I had the chance to meet and talk to Carl Wilson. At that time, it had been less than a decade since Dennis’s death; my own losses had taught me how raw grief can remain years later. Despite how huge a place Dennis had, still has, in my thoughts (he is my Muse, after all), instead, I asked about Brian, and Carl lit up. He smiled, he was infused with new energy, and he spoke freely and glowingly about his oldest brother. It was moving both because of Carl and because of how it reminded me of Dennis’s love for Brian.
Dennis and Carl are both gone now, but I believe that for Brian, they’re never gone. And the music… always the music. Here’s where I find a favorite “interview.”
September 28 — Favorite interview: My Love Lives On ©Dennis Wilson
ETA: I’ve returned to add a link to this 2008 article, because it has a lot of insight from people who knew and worked with Dennis as well as many quotes from Dennis himself.
Just read-up on what happened. So sad. Many artists seems to burn bright and die young.
He had a lot of demons that began in childhood. Huge heart, full of love and also mischief, lived hard, bottomless sadness: the story of so many creative people.