Speaker 1: Double Elvis. Blood on the Tracks is a production of
Speaker 1: I Heart Radio and Double Elvis. Brian Wilson was a
Speaker 1: musical genius and one of the greatest songwriters of all time.
Speaker 1: He caught melodies like they were waves. He bottled good
Speaker 1: vibrations like no one else, and he picked up bad
Speaker 1: vibrations too. He broke down, he tripped hard. He didn't
Speaker 1: just hear music, he heard voices. He tried to lose
Speaker 1: those voices by making a teenage symphony to God called Smile.
Speaker 1: But somewhere along the way, Brian Wilson lost his mind instead.
Speaker 1: This is his story. H Hello, this is Rhonda Masson.
Speaker 1: I'm a recording engineer who has been working with the
Speaker 1: legendary Beach Boy Brian Wilson since around My current project, however,
Speaker 1: is rather unique. I've been tasked with trying to reconstruct
Speaker 1: the infamous lost Beach Boys album Smile from its original
Speaker 1: tapes the ideas that will compile the songs for a
Speaker 1: box set. I thought it might be fun to record
Speaker 1: my process as we go through this project, but it's
Speaker 1: a it's gonna take a while. There's over a hundred
Speaker 1: tapes of Brian's recorded material and not All the stuff
Speaker 1: here is from those Smile sessions. There's also an extensive
Speaker 1: amount of Bryant's home recordings. Some are songs, some are demos,
Speaker 1: some are just his thoughts. There's an array of usable
Speaker 1: and unusable material here. In fact, let me play you
Speaker 1: something at random. Oh, okay, here we go. Some of
Speaker 1: this stuff is pretty out there. Let me see if
Speaker 1: I can find something from the Smile sessions. Okay, this
Speaker 1: looks good. This has dated novemb Okay, let's get the
Speaker 1: microphone right into the flames. Make sure we really hear
Speaker 1: the sound of the crack. That's is it? Okay? Are
Speaker 1: we rolling? Great? Great? Great? I want it all in
Speaker 1: this session. Everything. Let's get the fire on the songs.
Speaker 1: Let's get in terror into the music, and let's get it.
Speaker 1: Let's get in blood on the tracks. Chapter one, Brian
Speaker 1: Wilson is burning up. This is one oh five point
Speaker 1: four b r I a n f M broadcasting live
Speaker 1: from the Temporal Loo to an audience of one. We
Speaker 1: never stopped never, never, never stopped talking. And whoa, it's
Speaker 1: another hot one out there today. Be care of temperatures
Speaker 1: are on the up, and there's also been reports of
Speaker 1: high pressure pressure pressure. I know about pressure. Things are
Speaker 1: pretty calm around here at the moment, but sometimes they
Speaker 1: get a little shaky. Sometimes they get to be a
Speaker 1: little too much. You'll understand that soon enough. I guess
Speaker 1: where are we We're in my mind, of course, the
Speaker 1: mind of Brian Douglas Wilson. It's a place that's been
Speaker 1: expanded that over the years. It's now huge. I mean,
Speaker 1: it's vast. There are a lot of things in here, songs, melodies, ideas,
Speaker 1: but it's so big that there's a lot of dark corners,
Speaker 1: corners for things to lurk in, for people to lurk in. Well,
Speaker 1: good evening. This is Phil Specter taking over b R
Speaker 1: I a n f M because Brian's father on the mike.
Speaker 1: Not now. I uh, I'm not even sure where to
Speaker 1: begin with all of this. You know, there isn't one
Speaker 1: single moment where my mind became like this. It was
Speaker 1: more of a collection of things, I guess, drugs, pressure, family,
Speaker 1: but mainly a failed masterpiece. Have you ever had something
Speaker 1: you knew was going to be the best thing you
Speaker 1: ever did, the best thing you've ever made. Have you
Speaker 1: ever watched that slip away right in front of your eyes?
Speaker 1: Watched it crumble in your hands after you've labored over
Speaker 1: it for so long. That's what happened to me when
Speaker 1: an album we were going to call a Smile. It
Speaker 1: was supposed to be the best thing I'd ever made
Speaker 1: as an artist, but it got lost, or more truthfully,
Speaker 1: I got lost. One song in particular, summed up that
Speaker 1: project's demise, breaking about fire ranging through downtown everywhere. We're
Speaker 1: rising everyone to stay in their homes. We were recording
Speaker 1: a track for Smile called Fire. It's all about the
Speaker 1: great Chicago fire, but it was me who was burnt out.
Speaker 1: I envisioned the track as kind of a freak out
Speaker 1: in the middle of the record. It was part of
Speaker 1: an ambitious four section movement based on the classical elements air, fire, earth,
Speaker 1: and water. I had written it in big Sir, up
Speaker 1: in the mountains, in the snow, down to the beach
Speaker 1: and out to the pool, I mean everywhere. I wanted
Speaker 1: to experience the physical surroundings to get that feeling onto tape.
Speaker 1: After writing an Big Sir, I wanted to bring that
Speaker 1: feeling to the studio, so I had to set the scene.
Speaker 1: Let's get the fire on the song. I went to
Speaker 1: a local toy store and bought as many fire department
Speaker 1: helmets as I could find. I made every musician where
Speaker 1: one so that we could all get into character for
Speaker 1: the song. As I sat in the control room, however,
Speaker 1: I knew something was missing. We needed something else. The
Speaker 1: scene wasn't quite set. I spun round in my chair
Speaker 1: and saw a studio hand. We called him Brother Julius,
Speaker 1: and I shouted at him louder than I had intended.
Speaker 1: We need a bucket. He gave me a blank stare
Speaker 1: a bucket. I shouted again, is there one? He muttered
Speaker 1: something about taking a look and some wood. I shouted,
Speaker 1: wood is more important than the bucket. Minutes later he
Speaker 1: came back with both. As I came crashing into the
Speaker 1: main room, the musicians all looked confused sitting there in
Speaker 1: their helmets. I threw the bucket down and began piling
Speaker 1: bits of wood into it. I was sweating profusely while
Speaker 1: everyone looked at me an utter confusion. When the bucket
Speaker 1: was full, I shouted, we're ready, let's get the microphone.
Speaker 1: Right into the flames. In came Brother Julius with a
Speaker 1: burning rag. I could smell the lighter fluid and feel
Speaker 1: the heat as he walked by in the bucket. I demanded,
Speaker 1: just full of glee. I sat and watched the wood
Speaker 1: take light, then watched the smoke snake up to the
Speaker 1: tiled ceiling. It was beautiful, it was perfect. I turned
Speaker 1: to the musicians and said, now you can play. Let's
Speaker 1: get the microphone right into the flames. I ran back
Speaker 1: into the control room and shouted, okay, take one into
Speaker 1: the talk back mike. The sound swelled through the speakers.
Speaker 1: It was like a fire truck coming down the street.
Speaker 1: Swirling drone grew louder and louder with every bar. Those
Speaker 1: weird chords, those pounding drums, God, they were stirring my
Speaker 1: brain like it was soup. It louder and louder. I
Speaker 1: felt sick. I started thinking, oh God, I'm flipping out here,
Speaker 1: but I wasn't scared. I liked it. In fact, I
Speaker 1: loved it. It was addictive, like I was caught in
Speaker 1: a trance. Let's get terror into the music. The sound
Speaker 1: grew and grew. The weird strings sounded like they were
Speaker 1: tearing a hole in reality, opening something in my mind.
Speaker 1: I wanted more and more, but then it was too loud,
Speaker 1: too strong. It was like my mind was overflowing. I
Speaker 1: felt hot, It was like I was burning. Terror. I
Speaker 1: began to hit my arms because I thought they were
Speaker 1: engulfed in flames. I couldn't be in that room anymore.
Speaker 1: I crashed through the studio doors and ran as fast
Speaker 1: as I could down the corridor and out onto the street.
Speaker 1: I sucked in as much air as I could hold.
Speaker 1: It felt redemptive, like I had escaped the pressure, the
Speaker 1: suffocating pressure. But then I smelled it. I thought I
Speaker 1: had imagined it at first, like my mind was playing
Speaker 1: tricks on me. But soon it became so clear. I
Speaker 1: was smelling smoke, actual smoke. Hear the sound of the crowd.
Speaker 1: I thought it must have been from the bucket the studio,
Speaker 1: But it was stronger this time, a different kind of
Speaker 1: smell than in the studio, more pungent. Then I looked
Speaker 1: up and saw it. I still remember the terror of
Speaker 1: seeing it, the guilt of seeing it. The large brick
Speaker 1: building opposite the studio was in flames. It was burning
Speaker 1: to the ground. I stared with my mouth open and
Speaker 1: my eyes streaming from the smoke. I couldn't look away.
Speaker 1: I couldn't stop asking myself the same question. It reverberated
Speaker 1: inside my head. What had I done? If you're gonna
Speaker 1: be hanging around for a while, I guess I should
Speaker 1: lay down some ground rules. You gotta be groovy, Okay,
Speaker 1: no bad vibes here. Vibes are very important. I've got
Speaker 1: enough on my plane without another distraction plate. I mean
Speaker 1: enough on my plate. Okay. I guess you should know
Speaker 1: the full story. I started to spend a lot of
Speaker 1: time poking around and here in my head. That is,
Speaker 1: after I caught a flight one day. We were heading
Speaker 1: to Houston from l A. This was Christmas nineteen. I
Speaker 1: think the Beach Boys were on tour, and I had
Speaker 1: a moment where all the pressure I've been feeling over
Speaker 1: the last few months finally came to a head. You see,
Speaker 1: we were pretty famous at this point. We had hit
Speaker 1: songs like Surf in USA, Surfer Girl, be True to
Speaker 1: Your School, and Fun Fun Fun. Another song, Surf and Safari,
Speaker 1: went to number one in Sweden. We laughed about that.
Speaker 1: It just felt preposterous to have a number one song
Speaker 1: in a country you'd never even been to. It felt
Speaker 1: like this thing we'd become was bigger than we could
Speaker 1: have ever imagined. In May of nineteen sixty four, we
Speaker 1: released I Get Around and got a number one in
Speaker 1: the US too, our first gold record. I was happy
Speaker 1: with the success, of course, but it made me feel dizzy.
Speaker 1: When I started, I just wanted to make music with
Speaker 1: my brothers and my friends. I didn't care about the
Speaker 1: business side of things. I left that all to my dad.
Speaker 1: But that year things changed, Things got scary. I also
Speaker 1: got married around this time. I was pretty young, too young.
Speaker 1: I loved Maryland, my first wife, but I struggled with
Speaker 1: the institution. I kept asking myself over and over again,
Speaker 1: how do you ever know if you're the right person
Speaker 1: for someone? And how do you know if someone is
Speaker 1: the right person for you? Sure I loved her, but
Speaker 1: I was so uncertain about everything, everything except music. That is.
Speaker 1: One day I caught her talking to my cousin, fellow
Speaker 1: beach boy, Mike Love. Mike is funny, friendly and good looking.
Speaker 1: We have a whole history. The two of them were
Speaker 1: standing close. It looked like they were having fun. They
Speaker 1: looked a little too friendly. I guess it got me thinking,
Speaker 1: what am I doing with this woman? Does she really
Speaker 1: love me? Did I make the wrong choice? The more
Speaker 1: I thought about it, the more unsettled I felt. I
Speaker 1: felt so out of control. I was under so much
Speaker 1: pressure in my professional life. I couldn't bear being out
Speaker 1: of role in my personal life too. Later I confronted
Speaker 1: her about it. Do you like him? I asked, sure.
Speaker 1: She said he's a great guy. I said no, I mean,
Speaker 1: do you like him? She called me ridiculous, and I erupted,
Speaker 1: I mean I lost it. I'd never lost it like
Speaker 1: that usually, but it was the sign of what was
Speaker 1: to come. As I sat on that plane that day
Speaker 1: in December, waiting to take off of Houston, I couldn't
Speaker 1: stop thinking about it over and over again. Mike was
Speaker 1: talking to me, but I didn't hear what he was saying.
Speaker 1: Make sure we really hear the sound. I just kept
Speaker 1: thinking about him in Maryland. My mind flashed back to
Speaker 1: the two of them talking, and then I saw this
Speaker 1: image of the two of them kissing, and my pulse quickened.
Speaker 1: All of a sudden, I felt like I had to
Speaker 1: get out, get out of my marriage, get out of
Speaker 1: this band, get out of this plane. Open the doors,
Speaker 1: I yelled. I need to call my mother. I begged
Speaker 1: him for a phone, and I begged someone to open
Speaker 1: the doors. But I knew no one could help, because
Speaker 1: by this point we had already started moving. I could
Speaker 1: feel the air and the plane's cabin getting thin the crowd.
Speaker 1: I thumped the arm rest of the seat as the
Speaker 1: plane went faster and faster down the runway. God, it
Speaker 1: kept going faster and faster and faster. My pulse was skyrocketing,
Speaker 1: now going as quick as we were down the runway.
Speaker 1: Then we were in the air. I thought I might
Speaker 1: feel a bit calmer when the plane evened out, but
Speaker 1: calm never came. The pressure in my head was like
Speaker 1: being buried under a ton of sand. I couldn't take
Speaker 1: it anymore, so I clipped my seat belt and fell
Speaker 1: into the aisle. Someone shouted at me to sit down,
Speaker 1: but I couldn't. I grabbed a pillow from the seat,
Speaker 1: it over my mouth and screamed into it as loud
Speaker 1: as I could. I was crying now, too big, tears
Speaker 1: soaking through the polyester. I closed my eyes and saw
Speaker 1: Marylyn my kissing again. Then I saw the billboard chart.
Speaker 1: The Beatles were at the top, the beach Boys were
Speaker 1: at the bottom. Then I saw myself as a kid,
Speaker 1: stood in front of my dad as he took off
Speaker 1: his belt. Then my ears rang, then nothing, blackness. When
Speaker 1: I woke up, I was sitting back in my seat.
Speaker 1: Tears on my face had mostly dried up. I don't
Speaker 1: remember saying anything for the rest of the flight. I
Speaker 1: just stared out the window. I carried on staring from
Speaker 1: the car that picked us up after we landed, and
Speaker 1: also later when I sat in my hotel room. Hours
Speaker 1: passed and the only thing I said was I want
Speaker 1: to go home, and so that's what I did. The
Speaker 1: rest of the band played the scheduled shows right up
Speaker 1: until Christmas, and I went back to l A. After
Speaker 1: the tour finished. I had the whole band round to
Speaker 1: my house, Carl, Dennis, al Mike, all of them. I
Speaker 1: felt calmed by this stage. I was ready for what
Speaker 1: I had to tell them. I can't do this anymore,
Speaker 1: I said, looking at all their faces, one by one.
Speaker 1: What you saw on the plane. That's how I've been
Speaker 1: feeling inside. Not all the time, but that's the worst
Speaker 1: it's been. My brother Carl asked if I was quitting.
Speaker 1: I told him I was quitting touring. I didn't want
Speaker 1: to get on stage anymore. I wanted to stay home
Speaker 1: and write songs. That's okay. The guys didn't believe it
Speaker 1: at first. It took me a while to convince them.
Speaker 1: I kept coming up with all the positives for it.
Speaker 1: How I could make albums quickly, they could drop into
Speaker 1: the studio between oos and record their vocals. How I
Speaker 1: could concentrate fully on making the songs as good as
Speaker 1: they could be. It was really the best idea. Finally
Speaker 1: they came around to it. Glenn Campbell had been doing
Speaker 1: such a swell job as pinch hitter in my place
Speaker 1: on tour anyway, so it all made sense. You know,
Speaker 1: I never really liked the road anyway. It was never
Speaker 1: what I wanted. I'm always nervous before a show. I
Speaker 1: never know how an audience is going to respond. It's
Speaker 1: the uncertainty of it. That's what I can't process. I'm
Speaker 1: afraid of most things, to be honest, I was born
Speaker 1: scared that all disappeared in the studio. Though I knew
Speaker 1: if I had the time in the studio, I could
Speaker 1: create something wonderful, and I did, but I just didn't
Speaker 1: know what it would turn into into. One or five
Speaker 1: point four b r I a n FM is experiencing
Speaker 1: some technical difficulties. Please dan By. While we try it.
Speaker 1: We'll be right back after this word, word were I
Speaker 1: kept my word After that playing incident, I stayed at
Speaker 1: home while the rest of the Beach Boys toward. When
Speaker 1: Glenn Campbell's solo career looked like you could take off,
Speaker 1: Bruce Johnston was called in to replace him. Bruce was
Speaker 1: a staff producer at Columbia Records. He played in a
Speaker 1: group called the Rip Chords. He had a similar falsetto
Speaker 1: voice to mind, so I guess he was a good replacement.
Speaker 1: I was thrilled. Honestly, everything was working as I hoped
Speaker 1: it would in the beginning, anyway, with the band jetting
Speaker 1: off to wherever. I got to work in the studio
Speaker 1: on songs, and those songs turned into albums, albums like
Speaker 1: the Beach Boys Today and Summer Days and Summer Nights,
Speaker 1: and then those albums turned to pet Sounds, and then
Speaker 1: pet Sounds turned into Smile, and then Smile turned into
Speaker 1: well you'll see Beach Boys Today. LP was the first
Speaker 1: to come out. That record had a song on it
Speaker 1: called help Me Rhnda. It's a story of a man
Speaker 1: who is in love with a woman who finds another man.
Speaker 1: It's not based on a real person. Despite what you're thinking,
Speaker 1: it's not. It's not It's not sorry about that. It's
Speaker 1: just that song. It brings back memories, but not about
Speaker 1: my marriage, about my father. Jeez, I don't want to
Speaker 1: talk about it right now. Maybe later. Another song from
Speaker 1: that record was called Don't Hurt My Little Sister. That
Speaker 1: song was a strange one. It saw me sort of
Speaker 1: work with Phil Spector Man. I love Phil's records. They
Speaker 1: meant everything to me when I was learning how to
Speaker 1: become a producer. They still mean a lot. You know what,
Speaker 1: Phil had control. You can't be under pressure if you
Speaker 1: have control. He was Mr Control. His song be My
Speaker 1: Baby changed my life forever. I loved it so much
Speaker 1: I even wrote a little homage to it called Don't
Speaker 1: Worry Baby. Years later, when I wasn't doing so good,
Speaker 1: I'd get someone to loop the chorus of be My
Speaker 1: Baby on high fidelity tape. I'd run it through an
Speaker 1: echo chamber so it sounded huge, and then I'd sit
Speaker 1: at my home in my living room and listened to
Speaker 1: it in the dark. I remember one day I listened
Speaker 1: to it for over four hours straight. I couldn't stop,
Speaker 1: literally couldn't. I even kept copies of the song everywhere
Speaker 1: so I would never be without it. I kept them
Speaker 1: inside my home, my car, my studio, even the kitchen, everywhere.
Speaker 1: I still remember the first time him I heard the
Speaker 1: song too. I was driving and it came on the
Speaker 1: radio out of nowhere, like it had fallen from the heavens. Man.
Speaker 1: I had to pull over to the side of the road.
Speaker 1: It blew my mind, but it became this kind of curse.
Speaker 1: I was always trying to make something as good as
Speaker 1: that song, trying to but failing. Brian Wilson, I never
Speaker 1: thought he was that talented. I'd be more impressed if
Speaker 1: someone with a brain idolized me. When I heard it,
Speaker 1: I knew I had to write better songs, produce better albums,
Speaker 1: just be better. I became so obsessed, too obsessed, I guess,
Speaker 1: so much so I started to hear Phil Specter in
Speaker 1: here in my mind. That's how much it was embedded
Speaker 1: in my brain. You can imagine how thrilled I was
Speaker 1: then when he asked me to come into studio to
Speaker 1: work on something. I submitted that song Don't Hurt my
Speaker 1: Little Sister to Phil, and we were due to record
Speaker 1: it with the whole band all of Phil's people, but
Speaker 1: it didn't go so well. When I got to the studio,
Speaker 1: I could feel the the pressure. Why don't you play
Speaker 1: piano on this one? Brian? Phil said, God, I was
Speaker 1: so nervous playing piano in front of someone like Phil Specter. Jeez,
Speaker 1: I didn't feel worthy. I took a seat at the
Speaker 1: old White Grand, and within seconds he barked, are you
Speaker 1: going to play? Then? Sure? Sure, I said. I ran
Speaker 1: my hands over the keys, I fumbled around and played
Speaker 1: a bump note man. Phil looked pissed. I apologized and
Speaker 1: started again. I ran through the song on the keys
Speaker 1: and I sang to It was pretty good, at least
Speaker 1: I thought so anyway. However, when I finished, Phil turned
Speaker 1: to me and looked me dead in the eyes and
Speaker 1: just said no. I didn't know what to say. Let
Speaker 1: terror into the music. Then Phil announced he'd rewritten it.
Speaker 1: I was taken aback and kind of sad. Was it
Speaker 1: not good enough? I asked him that, but he didn't reply.
Speaker 1: He just produced these papers from out of nowhere, papers
Speaker 1: that had a new arrangement written on them. At the
Speaker 1: top of the page. I also saw a new title
Speaker 1: for it, his new incarnation of my song was to
Speaker 1: be called things are changing for the better. Now play,
Speaker 1: he cried, thrusting the paper under my nose. This time
Speaker 1: I actually jumped, I mean physically jumped. When he shouted.
Speaker 1: I got straight back to the piano and played as
Speaker 1: Philed mumbled through the melody. Right, he snapped after I
Speaker 1: had finished, let's try it with the band. Yeah. We
Speaker 1: did a couple of takes, and again I thought they
Speaker 1: were great. I kept thinking to myself, you're playing with
Speaker 1: Phil Specter. You're playing with Phil Specter. Suddenly I got
Speaker 1: carried away. I thought this song could become the new
Speaker 1: be My Baby, a new smash hit for Phil written
Speaker 1: by me. I thought this could lead to us making
Speaker 1: an album. He could even work on a Beach Boys
Speaker 1: record with me. What a gas that would be. But
Speaker 1: as this was all going through my head and I
Speaker 1: caught a glimpse of his face, he looked like he
Speaker 1: just swallowed a bottle of vinegar. I'm not sure this
Speaker 1: is working, he said quietly. When we finished, I could
Speaker 1: tell he was disappointed, disgusted. Even I was stunned. I
Speaker 1: didn't know what to say. I started to say I
Speaker 1: was sorry, and he snapped at me, don't apologize, that's weak.
Speaker 1: Then he made some excuse about having to be somewhere.
Speaker 1: I felt ashamed, to tell you the truth. I wanted
Speaker 1: to get out of there as quickly as possible. But
Speaker 1: as I was leaving, it got even worse. I heard
Speaker 1: him say to someone in the room. I thought he
Speaker 1: was supposed to be a genius. What a drag. It
Speaker 1: took me a while to get over that, but in
Speaker 1: a way it was good. It made me smarten up,
Speaker 1: so much so that when I walked into the studio
Speaker 1: some months later to record a new song, I felt
Speaker 1: determined to make something. Phil Spector could never make something new,
Speaker 1: something incredible, and I guess I succeeded. I called it
Speaker 1: Good Vibrations. October eight pm, Chicago. The Coved street was quiet.
Speaker 1: Katherine O Leary closed the door door burn and headed northeast.
Speaker 1: Inside the barn, her five year old red Brangus cow
Speaker 1: stood still. After a few minutes passed, the cow decided
Speaker 1: to lie down, and as it did so, its back
Speaker 1: leg clipped the large oil lantern burning brightly behind her.
Speaker 1: The flame from the lantern licked the hay in the wood,
Speaker 1: and within moments the entire barn was engulfed in flames,
Speaker 1: the red Brangus was burned alive. At first, the rest
Speaker 1: of the Covin Street remained quiet, but that all changed
Speaker 1: in a matter of minutes. The flames from Katherine o
Speaker 1: leary's barn began to jump to the wood frames of
Speaker 1: the nearby buildings. One by one, more buildings were now burning.
Speaker 1: The neighborhood was in a panic, and the fire brigade
Speaker 1: was called, but they were sent to the wrong address,
Speaker 1: and so for now the fire was left to cause
Speaker 1: its devastation. The flames rushed through Chicago structures, street after street,
Speaker 1: showing no mercy, gaining pace and energy with every second.
Speaker 1: More buildings, more structures, and then the city's lumber yard,
Speaker 1: and coal storage facility. The explosion of fuel and heat
Speaker 1: shattered the city's peaceful evening as the flames turned what
Speaker 1: felt like the entire cosmos of bright red. It was
Speaker 1: only now that the whole of Chicago realized its fate.
Speaker 1: Within hours, three point three square miles of the windy
Speaker 1: city was destroyed. One third of its inhabitants were homeless.
Speaker 1: On the other side of town, Catherine O'Leary, still walking
Speaker 1: heard the bang and quickly pivoted around. She saw nothing
Speaker 1: but red, orange and black looming in the night sky.
Speaker 1: The thick smoke was moving closer to her, now hanging overhead,
Speaker 1: like at any moment it could come crash into the
Speaker 1: ground and swallow her hole. She opened her mouth and screamed.
Speaker 1: Brian Wilson woke up with a shock. For a moment,
Speaker 1: he wasn't sure where he was. The dream it was
Speaker 1: so real, the cow, the fire, Katherine O'Leary screaming on
Speaker 1: a Chicago street, and Brian looked around and get his bearings.
Speaker 1: Gold Star Studios, Los Angeles. He was in the control
Speaker 1: booth on the couch he'd fallen asleep, still wearing that
Speaker 1: plastic fire helmet, the ky and he made everyone in
Speaker 1: the session, where he rubbed his eyes and looked over
Speaker 1: to the studios mixing desk. He saw the tape for
Speaker 1: the song Beach Boys had recently recorded Fire, Mrs O'Leary's cow,
Speaker 1: and beyond the desk, Arnie Geller the band's road. He
Speaker 1: stood in the doorway. You okay, Brian? Ernie asked another
Speaker 1: dream about being on fire Na. It was a new
Speaker 1: one this time. In this dream, Brian saw how it
Speaker 1: all began, but Brian didn't want to talk about his dream.
Speaker 1: He wanted to talk about what he had asked Arnie
Speaker 1: to do, to go find out if what Brian suspected
Speaker 1: to be true was actually true. Had there been an
Speaker 1: increase in fires in the l A area ever since
Speaker 1: they started recording their song. Arnie confirmed that it was true.
Speaker 1: Brian pulled off his toy hat and put his head
Speaker 1: in his hands, crying, What have I done? He muttered
Speaker 1: to himself, I told you it's voodoo. This is voodoo.
Speaker 1: Arney tried to reassure Brian that it was just a
Speaker 1: coincidence and that there was no way what Brian had
Speaker 1: been doing in the studio had any actual connection to
Speaker 1: what was happening in the real world, but Brian wouldn't listen.
Speaker 1: He knew what he had to do next. He grabbed
Speaker 1: the fire tapes from the desk, and then a bottle
Speaker 1: of whiskey from the table opposite, and ran from the
Speaker 1: control room. He snatched one of the buckets, say it
Speaker 1: used to burn wood it, and as he looked at
Speaker 1: the charred oak at the bottom of it, his mind's
Speaker 1: eye pictured the Chicago barn and the burning cow from
Speaker 1: his dream. He closed his eyes and shook his head
Speaker 1: violently to cast the images from his head. His pace
Speaker 1: quickened as he moved out of the building and into
Speaker 1: the parking lot, and there with Arnie on his heels,
Speaker 1: and Brian threw the tapes of the Curve Song into
Speaker 1: the bucket, ripped the cap off the whiskey bottle with
Speaker 1: his teeth, and deulsed the tapes with alcohol. Gasping for air,
Speaker 1: he pulled a packet of matches from his pocket and
Speaker 1: struck one straight away. But before we went any further,
Speaker 1: he stopped. He listened. He heard something firetruck siren, faint
Speaker 1: at first, but got louder and louder, and he turned
Speaker 1: to Arnie. You hear that, he yelled. Ernie looked worried.
Speaker 1: It's a coincidence, he shouted back, A coincidence, Brian. Brian
Speaker 1: took a deep breath. He had to finish when he
Speaker 1: had started. He tossed the lit match into the bucket
Speaker 1: and took a step back. His flames erupted from it.
Speaker 1: The heat rushed past his face and smoked course up
Speaker 1: his nose, and for a moment he stood on the
Speaker 1: concrete outside gold Star Studio staring at the flames engulfing
Speaker 1: the tapes, and then at the hollowed remains of the
Speaker 1: building across the street that had caught fire only a
Speaker 1: few days before, and the sight of that burned out
Speaker 1: building sent the chill down his spine. He closed his
Speaker 1: eyes and he couldn't look anymore. He started to talk
Speaker 1: to himself, and at first Arnie couldn't make out what
Speaker 1: he was saying, and Brian's lips moved fast as the
Speaker 1: nearby flames painted them orange and yellow. It sounded like
Speaker 1: something about fire or tracks, and then suddenly it was
Speaker 1: more intelligible. Arnie could swear that Brian was repeating, you
Speaker 1: can't erase Blood on the Tracks. Blood on the Tracks.
Speaker 1: Produced by Double Elvis in partnership with I Heart Radio.
Speaker 1: It's hosted an executive produced by me Jake Brennan, also
Speaker 1: executive produced by Brady sath Zeth Lundy is lead editor
Speaker 1: and producer. This episode was written by Ben Burrow, mixing
Speaker 1: and sound designed by Colin Fleming. Additional music and score
Speaker 1: elements by Ryan Spraaker. This season features Chris Anzaloni is
Speaker 1: the voice of Brian Wilson. Sources for this episode are
Speaker 1: available at double elvis dot com on the Blood in
Speaker 1: the Tracks series page. Follow double Elvis on Instagram at
Speaker 1: double Elvis and on Twitch at s Grace Sland Talks.
Speaker 1: And you can talk to me per Usual on Instagram
Speaker 1: and Twitter at Disgrace Land. Poe rock and roll Dad