The Founding of the Beach Boys (Part 1 of 4)
A closer look at the curious and complicated beginnings of the Beach Boys band.
This post is the first part of a detailed essay about the founding of the Beach Boys in 1961. The essay is meant to supplement the A History of Brian Wilson narrative—in particular Part 5 and Part 6 of that series, those which directly concern the group’s origins.
Because “The Founding of the Beach Boys,” returns to the essential and unavoidable subject of Murry “Dad” Wilson, here is a reminder of some additional Murry-related commentary currently posted to A Book of Brian Wilson:
Murry’s treatment of the Wilson brothers in childhood: Mentioned in this post
A four-part essay on the challenges posed by Murry in a historical understanding of the Beach Boys: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Some editorial commentary on why the Murry issue requires extra attention: read here and here
Thanks,
JH
Beach Boys commentary—books, memoirs, documentaries, and in more recent years videocasts and podcasts—trickles out at a relatively constant rate. It’s a fascinating and important story. Over the past decade, perhaps the most significant contribution has been Jim Murphy’s detailed account of the Boys’ early years, Becoming the Beach Boys: 1961-1963.
Some of the most interesting information in Murphy’s book is that which concerns the initial formation of the Beach Boys between 1960 and 1961. This period constitutes the crucible from which The Beach Boys—not as people, but as a musical and business entity, a group of musicians in the record business—originated. Murphy convincingly relates the specific circumstances under which the Beach Boys—initially Al Jardine, acting separately from any of his future bandmates—first made contact with the small music publishing firm of Guild Music, thereby establishing the connection that would result in the launching of the band’s career in 1961 and 1962.
Murphy prefaces this section of his book with a concise summary of the difficulties that have long been posed by this portion of Beach Boys history; the portion that might be called the “origin story.” He then offers what he terms “a working theory subject to modification as new information is uncovered,” with “the hope that it will spark discussion, perhaps with input from the surviving band members…”
This essay on the Beach Boys’ founding is offered in furtherance of that discussion (and as a supplement to the History of Brian Wilson essays). Due to its length, it will be posted in four parts. It is not intended to prove anything (that would be impossible), but to clarify the reasoning underpinning the viewpoint expressed in the History of Brian Wilson posts (particularly Part 5 and Part 6, the posts that specifically address the Beach Boys’ founding).
Please keep in mind the ultimate, overarching purpose of this addendum: to help provide a clearer sense of Brian Wilson’s music, career (both in and out of the Beach Boys) and life. To do this, however, it’s necessary to examine some of the specifics of Brian’s story, including in this instance, the very formation of the Beach Boys group in 1961, and his father’s role (or lack thereof) in that process. “The Founding of the Beach Boys” is intended to support the idea that Murry Wilson, father of Beach Boys Brian, Dennis, and Carl, contributed nothing (voluntarily) to the founding of the Beach Boys; that he fundamentally and instinctively objected to the group’s formation. For decades, Murry has been credited with helping the group break into the recording industry, to the point where it’s said the Beach Boys couldn’t have existed without his assistance. The effect of this presumption has been to mitigate the evidence of his cruelty, burnish his reputation, and make the story of Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys, and the Wilson family more palatable to the public. However, in my opinion, it has not made the story more accurate.
While I don’t believe Murry warrants any praise, the purpose here is not to bash him for sport. It is to help build the foundation for what I believe is a more focused understanding of Brian Wilson’s career with the Beach Boys. I will address this with a little more specificity in the final paragraphs of Part 4 of the essay.
— JH
The specific details on the origins of the Beach Boys—who played what, where, when and how—have been recounted in many, and at times contradictory, ways over the past fifty-five years. I can only offer my best memory about what happened.
—Mike Love, 2016
Time jumps around so much that it’s hard to remember exactly what happened. Plus it’s been written about so many times that it’s almost like a story someone else is telling me instead of a piece of my own life.
—Brian Wilson, 2016
i.
For about as long as there has been interest in the story of the Beach Boys, it has been assumed, or taken as fact, that Murry Wilson cleared a pathway to the record business for his three sons and nephew. It is rare, if not impossible, to read or hear anything, from anybody—inside or outside the Beach Boys organization—that seriously questions this basic and very important fact.
It is certainly fitting, for how could things ever have been otherwise for the Beach Boys? After all, the assumption of Murry’s crucial early support is itself founded upon three underlying facts that are even more unshakable: first, that Murry Wilson was the father of Brian, Dennis, and Carl Wilson, and the uncle of Mike Love. Second, that Murry was himself a modestly successful songwriter who enjoyed a preexisting relationship with Guild Music, the music publishing firm owned by Hite and Dorinda Morgan. And third, that the Beach Boys’ initial success with their local hit “Surfin’” was achieved through the intermediation of none other than those very same Morgans, who auditioned the Boys, recorded the demo of “Surfin’,” and sent it over to Candix, the small label that agreed to release it as a single.
It of course can’t be a random coincidence that father and sons happened to use the same small publishing company to further their respective musical ambitions. The natural inference has always been that Murry brokered the deal on behalf of the boys and their new singing group; that the Beach Boys’ all-important entrée into show business was knowingly and willingly facilitated by their dad and uncle.
This conclusion is not only logical and rational, but embodies a bittersweet sentimentality speaking to the complicated and conflicted relationship the boys had with the old man: yes, he was difficult—abusive, even—but he was the Beach Boys’ biggest fan. And when the chips were down, he would be there for them. He blazed a trail for the Beach Boys’ success. He was generous, and the Boys wouldn’t have made it without him. The concept is neatly summarized in journalist Timothy White’s description of Murry as a “legendarily big-hearted bully.” This reading of Murry is established Beach Boys doctrine, with versions of it appearing in one source after another for close to half a century.
In other words—if you print anything—I love my sons, you understand? And although they were big stars, I never gave up on them.
—Murry Wilson, to Rolling Stone magazine, 1971
ii.
And yet, during much of these same decades a separate and comparatively minor detail of the group’s formation has quietly persisted, leading one to think twice—if only for a moment—about what, exactly, occurred between Murry Wilson, Guild Music, and the group that would become the Beach Boys. It is this: the first member of the Beach Boys to audition for Murry’s publishers was not a member of the Wilson family—neither son nor nephew to Murry—but Al Jardine, an outsider. And moreover, the group of which Jardine was then a member was not the Beach Boys (who did not yet exist in any form), nor did it include any Wilsons.
By itself, this fact does not change anything, necessarily. All it means is that among the Beach Boys, it was Jardine who first had the initiative to try to record his group and get a record pressed. And that Murry Wilson kindly referred him to Hite and Dorinda Morgan. And since Jardine’s lineup would eventually morph into the Beach Boys, it was still Murry in the end who provided his sons with their conduit to the music business. Nevertheless, it now appears that Murry’s beneficent, paternal intervention assumes a more attenuated form: he was not helping out the Beach Boys group directly or any of his sons individually. His initial act of support was, at best, to lend a helping hand to somebody outside the family. His generosity was to that extent directed outward—away from Brian, his brothers, and Mike Love.
This in turn raises another red flag, for Beach Boys history establishes that Murry Wilson was not amiably disposed toward family “outsiders.” History is rife with examples of Murry’s suspicion, distrust and hostility toward various non-Wilsons during the group’s early years, when Murry’s overt power over the group was at its height. Beach Boys fans can rattle off the names of these foreigners: Gary Usher, Bob Norberg, Nik Venet, David Marks and his parents, Jan Berry. Al Jardine found himself in the crosshairs on one or two occasions. Blood-nephew Mike Love could testify to the various ways in which he was treated as outsider to the Wilson nucleus.
That nucleus ultimately consisted of one individual: Murry himself. At times, Mike may have viewed the Wilson family as a unit consisting of five (or maybe just two) Wilson insiders happily allied in their treatment of Mike as outsider. Yet it would appear to be that way only to the extent the family and each of its members remained in alignment with Murry’s subjective inner reality, where he reigned as lord and master, a paragon of moral virtue, a giver of love and protection. Therefore, even presumed Wilson family “insiders” could be treated as “outsiders” from time to time, to the extent their actions conflicted with Murry’s internal conception of himself, his family, and the world. His hidebound narcissism was such that he could even view his life-partner Audree as a kind of outsider, insofar as she supposedly “interfered” with the way he raised his sons. (She didn’t interfere.) And of course Murry repeatedly attacked, harassed, obstructed and undermined his son Brian whenever Brian himself assumed the role of outsider—those times when Murry viewed him as a disloyal traitor whose actions threatened Murry’s unquestioned control over the family and its business.
While it is possible there were instances when Murry was agreeable to outside intervention in his own career or that of his sons, those were likely to occur only under two special sets of circumstances. The first situation would be when Murry initiated the relationship with the outsider, authorized it, or otherwise retained the power in the relationship. One example would be Brian Wilson’s brief songwriting partnership with lyricist Roger Christian in 1962 and ‘63, which was pre-authorized, if not wholly conceived, by Murry. (Christian did good work with Brian in a partnership of mutual benefit, and would speak highly of Murry in later years.) The second situation is the one in which Murry was the weaker party, without any leverage. In this case, Murry could act against his nature, and come on to the outsider with an unctuous but ingratiating false humility.
Even if human beings have developed a greater faculty for humanity and empathy over the past two or three thousand years—and that’s questionable—Murry remained generally untouched by moral progress. Though his personality profile is common enough, it probably wasn’t well-suited for the innovative, progressive, and forward-looking American democracy of the post-WWII era. Given his particular psychology, Murry may have been happier living as a member of an early Saxon tribe, as a Roman citizen of the slave-owning patriarchal class, in China somewhere during the warring states period, or among the ancient, child-sacrificing Phoenicians. He was an inveterate authoritarian. For him, stability, morality and harmony (inner and outer) were achieved by licking the boots of those with greater power and stepping on the necks of those with less—especially one’s own children. Having been horribly abused in his own childhood, Murry had dutifully accepted the lesson that the world was cruel, and nothing else. Divide, conquer, and winner-take-all was the law. The Beach Boy record provides examples of this too.
Therefore, with respect to Al Jardine’s initial audition with the Morgans of Guild Music, we are faced with conflicting sets of data. On one hand, we have been led to believe that Murry graciously fixed up the young outsider Jardine with Guild, thereby enabling the success of the Beach Boys. On the other, we recognize that Murry was by nature disinclined to help anyone outside a family that he himself insisted on governing autocratically. We reasonably ask why Murry would be moved to help some 18-year-old kid who had nothing of value to offer him in exchange.
iii.
It appears that Jim Murphy’s Becoming the Beach Boys resolves this long-standing cognitive dissonance. For that is the book in which we learn that in fact, Murry never gave the names of Hite and Dorinda Morgan to Al Jardine in the first place. It was instead his wife, Audree Wilson, who did this.
In his book, Murphy relayed the recollection of both Al Jardine and Gary Winfrey, Al’s partner in a Kingston Trio-inspired group called the “Tikis”: they knocked on the door of the Wilson residence, in hope of securing some advice and assistance in getting a record deal. Audree Wilson, wife to Murry and mother to Brian, answered the door. Brian was not home. Murry was not home. Audree hospitably invited the young men inside, and in the course of discussing their musical ambitions, showed them samples (sheet music, or vinyl) of Murry’s songs. She gave them the contact information for the Morgans’ Guild Music on Melrose Ave. in Hollywood, and sent the boys on their way. At a minimum, this information shifts the focus from Murry Wilson’s presumed generosity to that of Audree.
Did Mrs. Wilson do this without her husband’s knowledge? At the time, it seems she did—Jardine had showed up unannounced, and Murry wasn’t home. And, generosity aside, was this an act of naïveté on the part of Mrs. Wilson? Yes, perhaps, to the extent that she may not have taken care to protect a valuable Wilson family asset: the family’s connection to the entertainment business. Unless Murry had already given Audree carte blanche to pass the Morgans’ contact information on to whomever she pleased, it might be reasoned that Audree should have at least checked with him first before giving it out. For in reality, it wasn’t family property that she gave away, but Murry’s alone.
As of the summer of 1960, Murry Wilson could legitimately say that he was “in the music business.” (That is why Al Jardine went over there in the first place). But Murry traversed only the outer fringes; he still earned his living in the machinery trade. By dint of hard work and what he would have referred to as “guts,” the surly, love-starved Murry had clawed his way from the anonymous expanse of South L.A. up to Melrose Ave., and even on occasion to the inner sanctum of the Hollywood recording studios. Over the years he forged a reliable personal bond with Hite Morgan. Morgan was himself a small-timer, but he in turn had connections to other independent operators. And so on and so forth, with these relationships constituting the interpersonal network that might one day link the likes of Murry Wilson with the big-time labels, producers, and talent.
Such personal contacts are valuable in any business, but particularly so in the glamorous and competitive setting of Hollywood, where there is no formal credentialing system. The creative component of the entertainment business is founded on talent and artistic drive, but the mechanics of the business itself, overall, run on social relationships. It’s not just about talent (though that matters) nor is it even always about money (though that’s often the endgame). Before that comes the personal relationship. It’s who you know that counts as much as anything—who returns whose phone call, who picks up the check at lunch, who is a relative of whom, which group of people can tolerate being in a room together. (Murry and Audree Wilson apparently socialized on occasion with the Morgans.)
Well-established insiders may come to take it all for granted, but an outsider or borderline player is quite aware of the importance of access—the degree to which he has it, the degree to which he wants for it. Murry had worked hard to cultivate at least one solid connection to the business—Hite Morgan. It can be reasonably assumed he was aware of its value.
Even a decent, reasonable, and non-sociopathic person will (and should) exercise judicious care when it comes to the address and phone number of a valued publisher, agent, manager, producer, etc. In the case of the Wilsons, the Morgans and Al Jardine’s Tikis, a different sort of man is involved. As of mid-1960, Murry had already committed acts indicating that he was neither decent, nor generous, nor reasonable, nor morally sane. His future actions would prove consistent with his past ones. How would such a man react after learning his wife had given Hite Morgan’s contact info to a couple of guitar-strumming punks who just knocked on the door? When did Murry find out Audree had done this? Even more importantly, under what circumstances did he find out?
There is nothing in the current record that really addresses these specific questions. It could be that Audree told Murry about Jardine’s visit as soon as Murry returned home that same day. It could have been that she became distracted by other things and forgot to mention it until days later. It could have been that she never told him at all. Maybe Hite Morgan mentioned it to him at some later date. Maybe not. Who knows.
For now, let us assume that Murry learned sooner rather than later that Audree had given the Morgans’ number and address to Al. And let’s further assume the happiest possible reading: that Murry was unperturbed, or even delighted to hear that Hite Morgan and the youngster Jardine might enjoy a little success on some tune Murry didn’t write. Even under that fact pattern, one detail remains constant: Brian Wilson was not yet involved in any of this.
In other words, even if Murry was aware of both Jardine’s contact with the Morgans and how he obtained that contact in the first place, none of it had anything to do with the young man whom Murry had abused at will and (among many other atrocities) once tied to a tree. The young man whom—as prior and subsequent history reveals—Murry viewed as personal property.
Continue reading in “The Founding of the Beach Boys” (Part 2 of 4)
For references, see list at the conclusion of Part 4 of this essay.
