Remembering when the Beach Boys had a clubhouse in Santa Monica
Today it’s an Italianate apartment building wedged between an Indian restaurant and a Target. But what stood half a century ago at 1454 5th Street in downtown Santa Monica was the Beach Boys’ Brother Studio, a former porn theater turned recording complex where the preeminent American rock band of the 1960s sought to coax its resident genius, Brian Wilson, back into the fold after a long stretch in the wilderness.
Nobody would consider the albums the Beach Boys made at Brother in the mid-70s — among them “15 Big Ones,” “The Beach Boys Love You” and the long-shelved “Adult/Child” — the band’s most successful. (Well, nobody except for Wilson, who frequently cited the synthed-up “Love You” as his fave.) A decade after 1966’s “Pet Sounds,” which so blew the Beatles away that they had to answer with “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” the burly, bearded Beach Boys were far from the center of pop music; Wilson, in particular, had largely withdrawn from public life as he struggled with the effects of drugs and his fragile mental health.
Yet Brother offered the setting for a creative reflowering — arguably the band’s final moment of unity before the start of years of more serious infighting.
“It was like we all got back together and became Beach Boys again,” says Al Jardine, who founded the group in suburban Hawthorne in 1961 with Wilson, Wilson’s brothers Dennis and Carl and the Wilsons’ cousin Mike Love. Now, eight months after Brian Wilson’s death in June at age 82, a new box set looks back at the era as an expressive outpouring led by the band’s rejuvenated visionary.
“We Gotta Groove: The Brother Studio Years” collects 73 tracks from 1976 and ’77, including outtakes, demos, a remastered version of the “Love You” LP and the first official release of the widely bootlegged “Adult/Child,” which puts Wilson’s touchingly emotive singing amid orchestral arrangements in a glossy big-band style. Among the set’s highlights are a voice-and-piano rendition of “Still I Dream of It,” which, according to legend, Wilson wrote in the hopes that Frank Sinatra would perform it, and a majestic take on “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” that shows how brilliant a record-maker Wilson remained despite all the well-documented turmoil.
“Brian was healing from his personal life, and he was ready to go in the studio again,” says Jardine, 83, whose latest tour with the members of Wilson’s road band will stop Friday night at L.A.’s United Theater on Broadway for a complete performance of “The Beach Boys Love You.” With quirky but heartfelt tunes about Wilson’s daughter Carnie (“I Wanna Pick You Up”) and Johnny Carson (uh, “Johnny Carson”) — not to mention the propulsive “Honkin’ Down the Highway,” on which Jardine sang lead — “Love You” has become something of a cult classic among Wilsonologists.
Says Jardine of the LP: “Brian’s spirit — his songwriting soul — is really strong on that one.”
The Beach Boys opened Brother Studio around 1974 near the corner of 5th Street and Broadway, just a few blocks from the beach. They’d traveled to the Netherlands to record their most recent album, “Holland”; before that, they cut several records at Wilson’s home on Bellagio Road in Bel-Air, though the group’s erstwhile mastermind spent as much time upstairs in his bedroom as he did recording music with his bandmates.
Wilson’s retreat after the flameout of his notoriously ambitious “Smile” project made space for the other Beach Boys to shape the band’s music, as on 1970’s fondly remembered “Sunflower.” But the lack of hits eventually took its toll: With a laugh, Love, 84, says one reason they started up Brother was that Wilson’s wife, Marilyn, eventually “threw in the towel after years of having her house flooded with people” to less-than-spectacular returns. “It was sort of like a self-preservation thing,” he adds.
The Beach Boys backstage at New York’s Central Park in 1977.
(Richard E. Aaron / Redferns)
In “We Gotta Groove’s” liner notes, engineer Stephen Moffitt, who designed Brother after working earlier at L.A.’s Village Recorders, recalls clearing out “all the porn crap” from the building and installing a circular stained-glass window to establish the right vibe. A vintage magazine ad boasts of the studio’s high-end gear as well as its “large screen video lounge” and “a playroom with pong, pinball and bumper pool.”
“It was a respite,” Love says. “A place to go and be creative.”
Just as the band was getting Brother up and running, the Beach Boys scored an unexpected smash with 1974’s “Endless Summer,” a double-LP compilation of the group’s early material — “Surfin’ Safari,” “Don’t Worry Baby,” “California Girls” — that topped the Billboard album chart on its way to sales of more than 3 million copies. A similar hits collection issued in the U.K., “20 Golden Greats,” did just as well there. “An enormous success,” says Love. “One in every five families had it.”
Suddenly, having more or less ignored group-minded efforts like “Holland” and “Carl and the Passions — ‘So Tough,’ ” the world remembered what it loved about the Beach Boys, and that was songs written and produced by Brian Wilson.
The band got to work at Brother recording “15 Big Ones,” which featured a mix of Wilson originals and covers of oldies like “Chapel of Love” and “Blueberry Hill.” The first Beach Boys album since “Pet Sounds” to carry a solo production credit for Wilson, it came accompanied by an aggressive marketing campaign known as “Brian Is Back!”; Wilson appeared on the cover of Rolling Stone — “The Healing of Brother Brian,” the cover line read — and took part in a Beach Boys television special that showed his return to the concert stage at Anaheim Stadium.
Earle Mankey, an engineer at Brother in the mid-70s, says “15 Big Ones” was less Wilson’s attempt to relight the flame than it was “everyone else’s attempt to relight the flame.” He recalls Wilson looking like a “scared rabbit” when he walked into the studio to find some of the session musicians who’d worked with the Beach Boys back in the old days. (This was the time of Wilson’s first dalliance with the psychologist Eugene Landy, who would reenter Wilson’s life to much controversy in the early ’80s.)
Fans watch the Beach Boys perform at Anaheim Stadium on July 3, 1976.
(Tony Korody / Sygma via Getty Images)
Even Love admits that “Brian Is Back!” was a little overblown. “Brian was back to some degree,” Love says now. “One hundred percent? Perhaps not.”
Yet the campaign worked: “15 Big Ones” went to No. 8 on the Billboard 200 — the highest for a Beach Boys studio album in more than a decade — while the LP spun off the band’s first Top 5 single since “Good Vibrations” with a rendition of Chuck Berry’s “Roll and Roll Music.”
More important, the commercial success set up Wilson for a true artistic comeback with “The Beach Boys Love You,” which can still startle you with the purity of its emotion and the strange textures of Wilson’s production. Check out the beautifully lopsided groove of “Mona,” which Dennis sings with a bleary smoker’s rasp, or the lonely-sounding electric-guitar lick floating over the Wilson brothers’ harmonies in “The Night Was So Young”; listen to Brian and Marilyn trading marital assurances in their almost painfully guileless duet, “Let’s Put Our Hearts Together.”
“Of all Brian’s stuff, I’d say it’s his most personal album after ‘Pet Sounds,’ ” says Darian Sahanaja, who played with Wilson for the last couple of decades of his life. “Maybe even more than ‘Pet Sounds,’ because Tony Asher wrote most of the lyrics on ‘Pet Sounds’ and Brian wrote most of the lyrics on ‘Love You.’ The Brian that I knew is very much living and breathing in these songs.”
Unlike “15 Big Ones,” “Love You” was not a hit, peaking at No. 53 — even lower than “Holland.” As much as he adores the album, Sahanaja finds it amusing that anyone in the Beach Boys’ camp might have expected Wilson to try to give rock fans what they wanted.
“He wasn’t listening to the Top 40 at the time,” he says. “He just wrote whatever came out of him. There was no, ‘I wonder what Fleetwood Mac’s up to…’ ”
Indeed, Wilson went even further out with “Adult/Child,” for which he commissioned orchestral arrangements by Dick Reynolds, who’d worked in the ’50s with Wilson’s beloved Four Freshmen. Both Love and Jardine say they can’t quite remember why the album didn’t come out; Love says “it may not have suited the record company at the time” and points out that even “Pet Sounds” got the group’s A&R rep wondering “if maybe we could do something more like ‘I Get Around.’ ”
Whatever the case, “Adult/Child’s” mothballing led to another withdrawal by Wilson, who had far less to do with the band’s next few records and who eventually turned to a solo career. In 2012, Wilson produced a so-so Beach Boys reunion record — minus Dennis, who died in 1983, and Carl, who died in 1998 — but for much of the ’00s he and Jardine toured under Wilson’s name while Love toured as the Beach Boys. (Love’s band will play three shows at the Hollywood Bowl in July.)
Asked what it’s been like performing with Wilson’s band since his death, Jardine says, “I just feel like he’s still around.” Sahanaja says he’s seen Jardine tear up as they’ve been working up songs from “Love You” on the road ahead of Friday’s show. But he’s also been gratified to see the excitement among younger fans regarding what he views as the Beach Boys’ last great album.
“The reaction has been more insane than I’ve ever seen for any of the shows we ever did with Brian,” he says. “It’s like they feel they found this secret thing that they really identify with.” He laughs. “I’m telling you, these kids are freaking out — jumping up and down, singing along to all the words. They’re, like, pogo-ing.”














