“Wouldn’t It Be Nice”: A Tribute to Brian Wilson

Today, I feel utterly devastated. Brian Wilson has passed away, and with him goes a piece of the soundtrack to my life.

I’ve been a fan of his for as long as I can remember. As a little girl, the joyful harmonies and sun-soaked melodies of The Beach Boys were among the first songs I truly loved. But as I grew older, I realized Brian Wilson’s music went far deeper than fun, surfboards, and convertibles. When I was a teen, struggling with bullying and trying to make sense of the world, songs like In My Room felt like they were written just for me. That haunting vulnerability wrapped in lush harmonies gave me comfort. Pet Sounds became a lifeline. It was more than an album—it was proof that someone out there understood what it meant to feel everything all at once.

As I got older, I followed Brian’s solo work with just as much reverence. Smile—that once-lost masterpiece—moved me in ways I still struggle to describe. I can’t even pick a favourite song from it because the entire thing flows so seamlessly. It’s a singular experience, one I return to again and again. His Reimagines Gershwin album felt like magic—like Brian was collaborating with ghosts and turning nostalgia into newness. And In the Key of Disney? That one just makes me happy in a way that feels childlike and pure. I cry every time I hear his version of Baby Mine.

Even his No Pier Pressure album, released later in life, had so much heart and craftsmanship. It wasn’t just “good for an older artist”—it was good, period.

I was lucky enough to see him live in Vancouver—twice. One was for his Reimagines Gershwin tour. The other was an anniversary tour of Pet Sounds. Being in that audience was like being surrounded by other people who had also been shaped, soothed, and inspired by him. It felt like being home.

Brian’s music was only part of what made him so special to me. His openness about his mental health struggles made a profound impact. He never pretended his life had been easy. In fact, Love and Mercy, the film based on his life, was his attempt to change the world—to give people a glimpse of what it means to live with mental illness and still create beauty. And he succeeded.

Brian Wilson shaped how I hear music. He shaped how I feel emotions. And in many ways, he helped shape who I am.

Today, I grieve. But I also feel immense gratitude that this brilliant, broken, beautiful man shared his gift with the world. His music was a lifeline when I needed it most—and it will always be a part of me.

Final Thought

Brian once said, “Music is God’s voice.” If that’s true, then I’ve heard divinity every time I listened to him. Thank you, Brian, for everything. Love and mercy to you, always.