Latest news with #RubberSoul
Yahoo
12-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Editorial: The influence of Brian Wilson, Sly Stone and … St. Charles?
Brian Wilson, the musical mastermind behind the Beach Boys, died at the age of 82, his family announced Wednesday. Earlier this week came news of the passing of Sly Stone, 82, whose startling originality combining elements of gospel, rock and soul enthralled audiences and fellow artists alike in the late '60s and early '70s recordings of Sly and the Family Stone. Both men were bona fide musical giants. Though their music was similar only in being groundbreaking, Wilson and Stone's lives followed similar, tragic narrative arcs. Both reached artistic peaks achieved by few others in pop music over periods of just a few years. Both were masters of the recording studio at a time when most artists left that part of their work to producers and focused on live performance. And both suffered from the ravages of drug abuse and mental illness for much of the remainder of their lives, making their many fans mourn for what more they could have offered. But what they created in their primes served as inspiration for legions of artists to come. Prince, Public Enemy and OutKast counted Sly Stone as a major influence. Wilson's lush, deceptively sophisticated harmonies and instrumentation were foundational for too many orchestral pop artists to count, and thanks to his epic rivalry with the Beatles in the mid-'60s, they pushed each other to greater heights. The Beatles' 'Rubber Soul' stirred Wilson to create his masterpiece, the Beach Boys' 'Pet Sounds,' which then inspired the Beatles' 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.' Speaking of 'Rubber Soul,' Wilson told the Tribune a little over a decade ago, 'I was so blown away by that damn album that I went and wrote ('God Only Knows.')' Paul McCartney subsequently called Wilson's work of genius possibly the greatest song ever written. Wilson set out to top the Fab Four yet again with what would have been 'Smile,' but threw in the towel on that legendary 'lost album' amid intra-band acrimony and debilitating mental health issues. Stone and Wilson both were children of California, but we choose to remember the brief but fascinating role of west suburban St. Charles in Wilson's life. Having remarried and feeling revived, Wilson moved to the suburb in the late 1990s to live near producer Joe Thomas, who worked on Wilson's 1998 comeback album, 'Imagination.' Wilson, an iconic Southern Californian, didn't learn to love Midwestern winters and in a few years' time moved back to where he once belonged. But we like to think our slightly less glamorous region played a significant role in Wilson's latter-years career resurgence that followed from what we'll call 'the St. Charles years,' topped by his 2004 celebrated re-creation with a stellar band of his vision for 'Smile.' God only knows what we'd do without the immense musical legacies Wilson and Stone left us this week. Submit a letter, of no more than 400 words, to the editor here or email letters@
Yahoo
12-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Paul McCartney Pays Tribute to ‘Musical Genius' Brian Wilson: ‘I Loved Him'
Paul McCartney has paid tribute to Brian Wilson following the death of the Beach Boys' 'musical genius.' 'Brian had that mysterious sense of musical genius that made his songs so achingly special,' McCartney wrote on social media Thursday, the morning after Wilson's death was announced. More from Rolling Stone John Stamos Remembers Brian Wilson: 'His Voice Is Part of the Divine Chorus' Mike Love Honors Cousin Brian Wilson: 'The Soul of Our Sound' Carnie Wilson Mourns Dad Brian Wilson: 'I've Never Felt This Kind of Pain Before' 'The notes he heard in his head and passed to us were simple and brilliant at the same time. I loved him, and was privileged to be around his bright shining light for a little while.' The Beach Boys and the Beatles enjoyed a creative rivalry in the Sixties that pushed both bands musically, to the benefit of everyone: In response to the Beatles' Rubber Soul, Brian Wilson encouraged his band toward experimentation to create their classic Pet Sounds (Rolling Stone named it Number Two in its list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time) which in turn inspired the Beatles on Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. McCartney has long praised Wilson's incomparable musical abilities, and even delivered the induction speech when the Beach Boy was welcomed into the Songwriters Hall of Fame, where he declared Wilson was 'one of the great American geniuses.' The Beatle has also claimed that the Beach Boys' 'God Only Knows' is his favorite song of all time, and fittingly ended his tribute by noting, 'How we will continue without Brian Wilson, 'God Only Knows.'' Following news of Wilson's death, his Beach Boys band mates and some of the countless artists he inspired have also paid tribute to the pop music architect and composer of teenage symphonies to God. Elton John called Wilson 'the biggest influence on my songwriting ever; he was a musical genius and revolutionary. He changed the goalposts when it came to writing songs and shaped music forever. A true giant.' Artists like Carole King, Graham Nash, Mick Fleetwood, Nancy Sinatra, and more have shared their own tributes to Wilson. Best of Rolling Stone Sly and the Family Stone: 20 Essential Songs The 50 Greatest Eminem Songs All 274 of Taylor Swift's Songs, Ranked
Chicago Tribune
11-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Chicago Tribune
Editorial: The influence of Brian Wilson, Sly Stone and … St. Charles?
Brian Wilson, the musical mastermind behind the Beach Boys, died at the age of 82, his family announced Wednesday. Earlier this week came news of the passing of Sly Stone, 82, whose startling originality combining elements of gospel, rock and soul enthralled audiences and fellow artists alike in the late '60s and early '70s recordings of Sly and the Family Stone. Both men were bona fide musical giants. Though their music was similar only in being groundbreaking, Wilson and Stone's lives followed similar, tragic narrative arcs. Both reached artistic peaks achieved by few others in pop music over periods of just a few years. Both were masters of the recording studio at a time when most artists left that part of their work to producers and focused on live performance. And both suffered from the ravages of drug abuse and mental illness for much of the remainder of their lives, making their many fans mourn for what more they could have offered. But what they created in their primes served as inspiration for legions of artists to come. Prince, Public Enemy and OutKast counted Sly Stone as a major influence. Wilson's lush, deceptively sophisticated harmonies and instrumentation were foundational for too many orchestral pop artists to count, and thanks to his epic rivalry with the Beatles in the mid-'60s, they pushed each other to greater heights. The Beatles' 'Rubber Soul' stirred Wilson to create his masterpiece, the Beach Boys' 'Pet Sounds,' which then inspired the Beatles' 'Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.' Speaking of 'Rubber Soul,' Wilson told the Tribune a little over a decade ago, 'I was so blown away by that damn album that I went and wrote ('God Only Knows.') Paul McCartney subsequently called Wilson's work of genius possibly the greatest song ever written. Wilson set out to top the Fab Four yet again with what would have been 'Smile,' but threw in the towel on that legendary 'lost album' amid intra-band acrimony and debilitating mental health issues. Stone and Wilson both were children of California, but we choose to remember the brief but fascinating role of west suburban St. Charles in Wilson's life. Having remarried and feeling revived, Wilson moved to the suburb in the late 1990s to live near producer Joe Thomas, who worked on Wilson's 1998 comeback album, 'Imagination.' Wilson, an iconic Southern Californian, didn't learn to love Midwestern winters and in a few years' time moved back to where he once belonged. But we like to think our slightly less glamorous region played a significant role in Wilson's latter-years career resurgence that followed from what we'll call 'the St. Charles years,' topped by his 2004 celebrated re-creation with a stellar band of his vision for 'Smile.' God only knows what we'd do without the immense musical legacies Wilson and Stone left us this week.
South Wales Argus
29-05-2025
- Entertainment
- South Wales Argus
Mersey Beatles set for Newport Riverfront Theatre gig
On Thursday, June 5, the band will perform at the Riverfront Theatre, celebrating the 60th anniversary of the iconic Shea Stadium concert. With a history spanning 25 years, The Mersey Beatles have delighted audiences worldwide, and this show promises to be their biggest UK tour yet. The performance will feature an array of classic hits from 1965, including beloved tracks from the albums Help! and Rubber Soul. Fans can also expect a journey through the psychedelic sounds of Sgt Pepper, a stroll down Abbey Road, and an homage to later masterpieces like Revolution, Get Back, and Hey Jude. Hailing from Liverpool, The Mersey Beatles were the resident tribute band at the famous Cavern Club for a decade, performing over 600 times at the venue where The Beatles first made their mark. (Image: DAVE NELSON) The current lineup includes Mark Bloor as John, Steven Howard as Paul, Craig McGown as George, and Brian Ambrose as Ringo. Looking ahead to the Newport show, Mr Howard said, "We cannot wait to take to the stage at the Riverfront Theatre. "We always have an amazing night in South Wales – the audiences are always up for a good night – so this will be an amazing night." Tickets for The Mersey Beatles at Riverfront Theatre are on sale now, available from the Newport Live website.
The Guardian
05-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘Pure sugar-rush mayhem': why I Wanna Hold Your Hand is my feelgood movie
When it comes to feelgood movies, it might not surprise some that a pick would come courtesy of Robert Zemeckis. After all, he has delighted us with some of cinema's most enduring and crowd-pleasing blockbusters. But it's not Back to the Future, Forrest Gump, nor any of the usual suspects who've secured spots on IMDb's all-time favourites lists that I return to when I need a pick-me-up. It's his very first film, 1978's I Wanna Hold Your Hand: a criminally underrated gem of a debut that flopped at the box office but has always felt like something close to magic for me. Set in 1964, it's as much a madcap comedy romp as it is a sincere ode to fangirls, capturing a day in the life of a riotous group of teenagers in the grip of full-blown Beatlemania. They hatch a plan fuelled by the kind of misguided delusion only teenagers can have: sneak into the Beatles' hotel via limousine, see them in all their corporeal glory, and by some miracle, score tickets to their legend-making performance on the Ed Sullivan Show. I first watched the film at the age of 12, having freshly graduated from cutting out One Direction posters in magazines to diving headfirst into Beatlemania myself. In my last piece, I told you to 'stop screaming about the Beatles biopics', but I must confess: my own screaming about the band hasn't let up since I first got hooked on Rubber Soul. Though I'm a gen Z-er, born in 2003 and decades late to the party, Zemeckis's evocative portrait of girlhood obsession's delirium reminds me there's something timeless – and a little bit holy – about being a fan. He transports us to a small record store in suburban New Jersey where cultlike hysteria is already in full swing. Swarms of teenage girls are clobbering each other for the latest copies of Meet the Beatles. But no one's louder (or more unhinged) than Rosie (Wendie Jo Sperber), who lets out a mighty squeal: 'Oh my god! It's Paul, it's Paul! I'm gonna die right here!' Her friend Pam (Nancy Allen), resisting the tide of her inner Beatlemaniac, flatly replies: 'He's cardboard.' As we meet the rest of the gang, it's clear a mere cardboard cutout just won't do. So they pile into a hearse – not quite the limo they hoped for – but thanks to their naive, unlicensed classmate Larry (Marc McClure), they swing and swerve their way to New York. Each character has a motive for making the pilgrimage: Janis (Susan Kendall Newman), a Joan Baez-loving activist convinced the Beatles are a corporate ploy, is set on picketing. Grace (Theresa Saldana), an aspiring photographer, is after career-making shots. But then there's Tony Smerko (Bobby Di Cicco), a tough-talking greaser who swears the band's haircuts alone threaten masculinity – yet tags along anyway. The next 90 minutes are pure, sugar-rush mayhem and all supercharged by a soundtrack of real Beatles songs – a rare delight you can't get on a low budget today. As they dash up and down elevators, hotel lobbies and the Beatlemaniac-flooded streets of Manhattan, all while dodging police officers and hotel staff, you can't help but root for them. The funniest scene features Pam slipping into the band's hotel suite in a room service cart, where she undergoes what can only be described as an awakening. She writhes and crawls to McCartney's Höfner bass, kissing and caressing it (after stashing her engagement ring in her shoe, of course), then collapses in ecstasy. It's absurd, it's hilarious, but it also feels strangely sincere. Though the fun hinges on the fever pitch of the Beatles' arrival in the US, they're only ever shown through real archival footage, never by actors playing them. Zemeckis gives us glimpses: the backs of their mop-tops obscured through an ajar cupboard door, feet from under a bed, but they remain just out of sight. When a band has been so relentlessly documented, anything less than the real thing can feel like a letdown. The film recognises that the Beatles' appeal lies in their existence on a higher plane – almost too towering, too universally adored and mythic to distil on celluloid. Its brilliance is Zemeckis turning his lens on the effect they've had on us by centering the very people who made them a cultural force: the fangirls. Even at the height of their parasocial hijinks, Zemeckis never treats girlhood obsession with a hint of mockery or condescension. Rather, it's an affectionate celebration of what it means to be a fan – its heady thrills and innate universality – as hilarious as it is relatable. I wasn't born anywhere near the 60s, but every time I rewatch I Wanna Hold Your Hand, I feel like I missed out on all the fun. I would have been diving out of a hearse for concert tickets and trading dodgy memorabilia too. Despite being about one of the world's most famous fan clubs, I feel like I'm part of a secret one just for this film – championing its under-appreciated, fizzy charm to those yet to experience it.
