10 songs to celebrate the life and legacy of the Beach Boys' Brian Wilson

ENT

10 songs to celebrate the life and legacy of the Beach Boys' Brian Wilson

2025-06-12 04:28 Last Updated At：04:31

NEW YORK (AP) — The musical world lost a giant with news Wednesday that Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys’ visionary and fragile leader, had died. He was 82.

Attempting to distill Wilson's talent and influence in a few short songs is an impossibility; even just focusing on a few select cuts from The Beach Boys' 1966 album “Pet Sounds," routinely regarded as one of the greatest albums of all time, would feel shortsighted. (Lest we forget, there is no Beatles' “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club” without it, and countless other classics past and present.) Instead, to celebrate Wilson's life and legacy, we've decided to identify just a few songs that made the man, from the fiercely familiar to a few unexpected selections.

Read on and then listen to all of the tracks on our Spotify playlist.

The song of the summer in 1963 — heck, the song of any summer, ever — “Surfin' USA” at least partially introduced the group that would forever become synonymous with an image of eternal California bliss, where the sun always shines, the waves are always pristine, and paradise is a place on Earth. It's hard to imagine the beach existing before these wake-up riffs, the guitars that sparked a surf rock movement and then some. (Though it is important to mention that the song borrows heavily from Chuck Berry’s “Sweet Little Sixteen.") It's hard to think that surf music was once mostly just instrumental — even when Wilson and his cousin, fellow Beach Boy Mike Love, hastily wrote up their first single, “Surfin,’” a minor hit released in 1961.

Think of it as a response to The Ronettes' “Be My Baby.” The hot-rod hit “Don't Worry Baby” is the cheery B-side to “I Get Around," and has one of the most transformative key shifts in pop music history, from the man's perspective in the verse to the woman's response in the chorus. Brilliant!

Headphones on, stereo up. The Beach Boys' “California Girls” sounds massive. It is no doubt the result of Wilson's love and admiration for Phil Spector’s “Wall of Sound," which lead to the song's use of guitar, horns, percussion and organ as its overture. The song is a sunshine-y good time — and would later inspire Katy Perry's “California Gurls,” among countless others. But most importantly, the song establishes the band — and Wilson's own — larger-than-life aspirations, where pop music could be both avant-garde and built of earworms.

Wilson's voice is the first one heard on the Beach Boys' unimpeachable “Pet Sounds.” “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older? / Then we wouldn’t have to wait so long,” he sweetly sings on the album's opener. “And wouldn’t it be nice to live together / In the kind of world where we belong?” Optimism and innocence are the name of the game, and the listener is the winner.

If Wilson must be known for one thing, let it be his inimitable sense of harmony, perfected across his craft and completely unignorable on “God Only Knows,” a masterclass in vocals, love, emotional depth, harpsichord and the intersection of all such forces.

“God Only Knows” is also one of Paul McCartney's favorite songs of all time, one known to bring him to tears.

What kind of vibrations? Good, good, GOOD vibrations. And at a cost. As the story goes, one of the Beach Boys’ best-known hits — and, arguably, one of the most immediately recognizable songs in rock ’n’ roll history — was recorded over seven months, in four different studios, reportedly costing up to $75,000. And it is an absolute masterpiece of theremin, cello, harmonica and so much more. Pop music has never been so ambitious — and successful.

“Heroes and Villains” might be one of the most complex songs in the Beach Boys' discography, and with good reason. It is the opener of “Smile,” what Wilson called a “teenage symphony to God,” a whimsical cycle of songs on nature and American folklore written with lyricist Van Dyke Parks. It was delayed, then canceled, then rerecorded and issued in September 1967 on “Smiley Smile,” dismissed by Carl Wilson as a “bunt instead of a grand slam.” In moments, “Heroes and Villains” is psychedelic, in others, it embodies an otherworldly barbershop quartet. It is off-kilter and clever, as Wilson's band so often proved to be.

The late '60s are an undercelebrated time in Wilson's creative oeuvre — no doubt an effect of his declining mental health — but there are many rich songs to dig into. Particularly, the soulful, R&B, Motown-esque harmonies of “Darlin'.”

As the story goes, “Don't Let Her Know She's an Angel” was originally record for his 1991 unreleased album “Sweet Insanity,” but did not officially appear until it was rerecorded for his 2004 album “Gettin’ in Over My Head.” The song features a bunch of programming, synths and percussion, which might strike Beach Boys fans as odd. But trust us, it works here.

This pick might come as a surprise for many fans. “Isn't It Time” is a cut from “That’s Why God Made the Radio," the album the legendary group put out to celebrate their 50th anniversary and left a lot to be desired. But within its filler, this song is undoubtedly catchy, with its ukulele and handclap percussion.

AP National Writer Hillel Italie contributed to this report.

Buddhist monks and their dog captivate Americans while walking for peace

A group of Buddhist monks and their rescue dog are striding single file down country roads and highways across the South, captivating Americans nationwide and inspiring droves of locals to greet them along their route.

In their flowing saffron and ocher robes, the men are walking for peace. It's a meditative tradition more common in South Asian countries, and it's resonating now in the U.S., seemingly as a welcome respite from the conflict, trauma and politics dividing the nation.

Their journey began Oct. 26, 2025, at a Vietnamese Buddhist temple in Texas, and is scheduled to end in mid-February in Washington, D.C., where they will ask Congress to recognize Buddha’s day of birth and enlightenment as a federal holiday. Beyond promoting peace, their highest priority is connecting with people along the way.

“My hope is, when this walk ends, the people we met will continue practicing mindfulness and find peace,” said the Venerable Bhikkhu Pannakara, the group’s soft-spoken leader who is making the trek barefoot. He teaches about mindfulness, forgiveness and healing at every stop.

Preferring to sleep each night in tents pitched outdoors, the monks have been surprised to see their message transcend ideologies, drawing huge crowds into churchyards, city halls and town squares across six states. Documenting their journey on social media, they — and their dog, Aloka — have racked up millions of followers online. On Saturday, thousands thronged in Columbia, South Carolina, where the monks chanted on the steps of the State House and received a proclamation from the city's mayor, Daniel Rickenmann.

At their stop Thursday in Saluda, South Carolina, Audrie Pearce joined the crowd lining Main Street. She had driven four hours from her village of Little River, and teared up as Pannakara handed her a flower.

“There’s something traumatic and heart-wrenching happening in our country every day,” said Pearce, who describes herself as spiritual, but not religious. “I looked into their eyes and I saw peace. They’re putting their bodies through such physical torture and yet they radiate peace.”

Hailing from Theravada Buddhist monasteries across the globe, the 19 monks began their 2,300 mile (3,700 kilometer) trek at the Huong Dao Vipassana Bhavana Center in Fort Worth.

Their journey has not been without peril. On Nov. 19, as the monks were walking along U.S. Highway 90 near Dayton, Texas, their escort vehicle was hit by a distracted truck driver, injuring two monks. One of them lost his leg, reducing the group to 18.

This is Pannakara's first trek in the U.S., but he's walked across several South Asian countries, including a 112-day journey across India in 2022 where he first encountered Aloka, an Indian Pariah dog whose name means divine light in Sanskrit.

Then a stray, the dog followed him and other monks from Kolkata in eastern India all the way to the Nepal border. At one point, he fell critically ill and Pannakara scooped him up in his arms and cared for him until he recovered. Now, Aloka inspires him to keep going when he feels like giving up.

“I named him light because I want him to find the light of wisdom,” Pannakara said.

The monk's feet are now heavily bandaged because he's stepped on rocks, nails and glass along the way. His practice of mindfulness keeps him joyful despite the pain from these injuries, he said.

Still, traversing the southeast United States has presented unique challenges, and pounding pavement day after day has been brutal.

“In India, we can do shortcuts through paddy fields and farms, but we can’t do that here because there are a lot of private properties,” Pannakara said. “But what’s made it beautiful is how people have welcomed and hosted us in spite of not knowing who we are and what we believe.”

In Opelika, Alabama, the Rev. Patrick Hitchman-Craig hosted the monks on Christmas night at his United Methodist congregation.

He expected to see a small crowd, but about 1,000 people showed up, creating the feel of a block party. The monks seemed like the Magi, he said, appearing on Christ’s birthday.

“Anyone who is working for peace in the world in a way that is public and sacrificial is standing close to the heart of Jesus, whether or not they share our tradition,” said Hitchman-Craig. “I was blown away by the number of people and the diversity of who showed up.”

After their night on the church lawn, the monks arrived the next afternoon at the Collins Farm in Cusseta, Alabama. Judy Collins Allen, whose father and brother run the farm, said about 200 people came to meet the monks — the biggest gathering she’s ever witnessed there.

“There was a calm, warmth and sense of community among people who had not met each other before and that was so special,” she said.

Long Si Dong, a spokesperson for the Fort Worth temple, said the monks, when they arrive in Washington, plan to seek recognition of Vesak, the day which marks the birth and enlightenment of the Buddha, as a national holiday.

“Doing so would acknowledge Vesak as a day of reflection, compassion and unity for all people regardless of faith,” he said.

But Pannakara emphasized that their main goal is to help people achieve peace in their lives. The trek is also a separate endeavor from a $200 million campaign to build towering monuments on the temple’s 14-acre property to house the Buddha’s teachings engraved in stone, according to Dong.

The monks practice and teach Vipassana meditation, an ancient Indian technique taught by the Buddha himself as core for attaining enlightenment. It focuses on the mind-body connection — observing breath and physical sensations to understand reality, impermanence and suffering. Some of the monks, including Pannakara, walk barefoot to feel the ground directly and be present in the moment.

Pannakara has told the gathered crowds that they don't aim to convert people to Buddhism.

Brooke Schedneck, professor of religion at Rhodes College in Memphis, Tennessee, said the tradition of a peace walk in Theravada Buddhism began in the 1990s when the Venerable Maha Ghosananda, a Cambodian monk, led marches across war-torn areas riddled with landmines to foster national healing after civil war and genocide in his country.

“These walks really inspire people and inspire faith,” Schedneck said. “The core intention is to have others watch and be inspired, not so much through words, but through how they are willing to make this sacrifice by walking and being visible.”

On Thursday, Becki Gable drove nearly 400 miles (about 640 kilometers) from Cullman, Alabama, to catch up with them in Saluda. Raised Methodist, Gable said she wanted some release from the pain of losing her daughter and parents.

“I just felt in my heart that this would help me have peace,” she said. “Maybe I could move a little bit forward in my life.”

Gable says she has already taken one of Pannakara’s teachings to heart. She’s promised herself that each morning, as soon as she awakes, she’d take a piece of paper and write five words on it, just as the monk prescribed.

“Today is my peaceful day.”

Freelance photojournalist Allison Joyce contributed to this report.

Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.