Exploring the Rivalry and Respect between Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson

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Exploring the Rivalry and Respect between Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson

by Kelli Richards, Jeeni MD USA

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A guy named Jeffrey Stillwell has put together a great video essay focused on the so-called “rivalry” between the Beach Boys and the Beatles; and in particular the relationship between Paul McCartney and Brian Wilson. They were most certainly inspired by each other creatively and each wound up bringing out the best in each other as both are quick to confess. When “Pet Sounds” came out, it blew the minds of the Beatles, and that was a big catalyst to what would become “Sgt Pepper” in terms of musical experimentation — both are still such iconic albums that it’s hard to believe it’s been 50 years since each was released. This video biopic also chronicles the relationship and interactions between Paul and Brian over the decades, and ultimately the deep respect they have for each other —and it’s worth investing the 20 minutes to watch it.

There’s also a personal tie for me here in a couple of ways. As a teenager, I was hugely influenced by both groups and in particular the Beatles; I became a life-long Beatle-ologist as a result (as a hobby). It also led me to a career in music & music tech (initially wanting to be a record producer having immersed myself in the techniques of production) — first as young A&R exec at EMI/Capitol, and then when I launched and ran Apple’s earliest focus on music and entertainment during my lengthy tenure there (where among my responsibilities, I had to deal with the fall out of the lawsuits between Apple Inc and Apple Records – the Beatles’ company).

I also parlayed that early production passion into being a talent producer of award shows and celebrity fundraiser events over several decades. One of the events I was asked to co-produce was called “Adopt-a-Minefield” in conjunction the with the United Nations. Paul’s then-wife, Heather Mills, was heavily involved in the cause, and she organized these annual events (I believe there were five) featuring Paul and his band, and another major artist. I co-produced the event in 2002; Paul had invited Stephen Stills and Brian Wilson to perform with him — and the event was hosted by Jay Leno.

The event took place in LA, and was a high-ticket event; I believe it was limited to 500 in attendance. I had some interesting conversations and interaction with Paul that evening, who was determined to ensure all the details to do with the production of the event were flawless and well-thought-out. For the 500 of us in attendance, it was magical to watch Paul and Brian doing a duet on both “God Only Knows”, a favorite of Paul’s, and on “Let It Be”. It’s too bad it wasn’t taped so it could be streamed.

There can be no doubt of the creative genius and respect these two have for each other’s music and as individuals. As a final aside, Paul and Brian were born just two days apart in June 1942; geniuses in good company from the very start! (There’s a cute clip in the video essay of Brian calling Paul on his birthday and singing a verse from Paul’s “Birthday” song).

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Amba Tremain - 'Baby You're Gold' Single Review

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10
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Mel's bedtime story

Once upon a time, I created a platform called jeeni.com which is where independent artists perform their music in front of new fans, and get rewarded for their efforts. On a Saturday night we ran a live global music festival featuring 18 acts from both sides of the Atlantic. The oldest performer was over 70, the youngest was under 10. They were brilliant, each in their own way. We broadcast over social media and websites. There were no adverts, there were no fakes, there was no hype. It didn't cost us a penny to run. Everyone had a ball. We are part of a revolutionary process that is killing a corrupt and rotting music industry which has held both audience and performer to ransom since the 1890s. So if you will indulge me, I'd like to tell you how, and why ... I'm an old hoarder, I hoard old music recordings, and when I say old I mean really old. Upstairs, in what was once a studio but has turned into an Irish Setter leisure lounge, there are several hundred wax cylinders from the 1890s. Each cylinder is a unique recording from an age before duplication was possible. If Miss Florrie Forde wanted to sell a hundred copies of Hold Your Hand Out You Naughty Boy to her adoring public, then she had to keep lubricated and trill the bloody thing into a brass horn a hundred times and record it onto wax in real time. But to me the beauty of these cylinders is not that each one is a unique recording, but that each one is mercifully short, rotating at 120 revolutions a minute and lasting a meagre two minutes, because that's all a wax cylinder can hold. And so the two minute pop single was born. At the start of the twentieth century discs replaced cylinders, but not a lot changed. I have another room full of shellac discs that spin at 78 revolutions a minute. When it came to pop singles from artists bringing joy to the world throughout the first half of the twentieth century, they had just under three minutes to do it in. And if they were any good, just under three minutes was plenty. I feel personally to blame for what happened next, because in the hour of my birth in 1948, the microgroove vinyl disc hit the market, spinning at what my Irish chums call dirty tree and a turd revolutions per minute. I have an entire wall of vinyl albums, with their glorious covers and sleeve notes. And yes, they are arranged in alphabetical order by artist and date-order of release. Their storage capacity is approximately twenty-five minutes a side, which is usually twenty-two minutes too long. And on the opposite wall is where all my CDs sulk, each one capable of storing seventy-four minutes of audio, and not one of them played since the turn of this century. Why? Because a hacker called SoloH went and ripped the source code of something called the Fraunhofer MP3 encoder and spread it all over the internet for free. Thanks to SoloH, I can not only digitise my entire collection of recorded music without any restrictions on playing time, I can access the entire library of everything that has ever been recorded, for ever. My phone weighs exactly the same as my 78rpm copy of Little Richard's single Tutti Frutti, which runs for two minutes 28 seconds of total perfection. My phone holds 21,417 tracks in MP3 format, some of them complete symphonies, which are pretty good, some of them prog-rock drum solos, as used by Viet Cong torturers to break the spirit of the enemy. My desktop hard drive and cloud-accounts contain too many tracks to keep track of. I declare that my motivation for amassing this ludicrous collection of music was that one day it would bring me comfort in my old age, when my body and brain become enfeebled and I feel the need to keep hold of past pleasures while dying. As it turns out, I started playing my collection early, during lockdown, and wished I was dead by the end of day three. The singles were great, but the albums were mostly insufferable. Which is when I realised that the music album is stone dead, and the nightmare of a lifetime of audio padding is finally over. Then the real truth hit me. The recorded music industry is dead too. Thanks to COVID19 there has been an explosion of new creativity. Everyone is now a record producer, anyone can run a broadcast music channel, and that's exactly what everyone and anyone seems to be doing, including me. The spongers and leeches and shysters have been exposed as completely unnecessary, as have most of the agents, publicists and managers. They are no longer able to milk performers in our new world of social distancing, because they have lost their power. It's the remote audience that now has the power, and this audience wants instant gratification, not a load of overhyped, overwrought, overlong, flimflam. Jeeni.com is my final project in a very long career. I'm giving my artists three minutes per track to nail it, because that's what my old hoard tells me is right. And I hope you agree that in order to shine, three minutes is all that anyone should ever need.

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