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| The Beach Boys Look Back |
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The iconic band's surviving members reflect
on more than six decades of endless summer.
By Jordan Runtagh in People
or those who were around for the early days of rock and roll, the first image they probably saw of the Beach Boys was on the cover of their 1962 debut album, Surfin' Safari. Holding a surfboard in Malibu, their eager teenage faces gleefully survey the horizon -- and a future they could scarcely imagine. Last fall, more than 60 years later, the surviving members reunited on the same beach to toast their legacy. The scene is the centerpiece of the new Disney+ documentary The Beach Boys (streaming now). The film details how family ties kept the band composed of brothers Brian, Carl and Dennis Wilson, their cousin Mike Love and friend Al Jardine -- together through ups and downs as they made music history.
"It really brought me back to those days with the boys, the fun and the music," Brian Wilson, 81, says of the film in a statement. He attended the L.A. premiere on May 21, flanked by his children and bandmates -- his first public appearance since a judge approved a conservatorship because of an unspecified neurocognitive disorder, appointing his longtime representatives LeeAnn Hard and Jean Sievers as co-conservators. Despite Brian's health struggles and the death of his wife, Melinda Ledbetter, in January at age 77, those close to him say he stays healthy with physical therapy and still makes music. Here the band shares the story of survival.
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The Beach Boys were born in the back of the Wilson family car as Brian, Dennis and Carl sang to pass the time on drives through their hometown of Hawthorne, Calif. At Christmas they showcased their talents during parties at the home of cousin Mike Love. "We would get together and harmonize," Love, 83, recalls. "Music was a family harmony."
This passion blossomed into an obsession for Brian, who sat at the piano for hours dissecting complex vocal arrangements of jazz groups. His efforts helped bring harmony to an unhappy home. Wilson patriarch Murry was a strict disciplinarian prone to angry outbursts and physical abuse. The quickest way to Murry's heart was through music, and family sing-alongs provided fleeting moments of peace. In addition to his brothers and cousin, Brian recruited pal Al Jardine to join. "We clicked immediately," Jardine, 81, says. "We had a band and a new family."
California Dreams
A catalyst for the group came in 1961 when the Wilson parents took a vacation to Mexico. Using money left behind for emergencies, the teens rented instruments to record early compositions. "We were desperate to begin to play our stuff," says Jardine. One of the tracks they recorded was "Surfin'," inspired by a new coastal fad. It earned them a record deal and provided the group with a brand, though only Dennis actually surfed.
Other songs were more true to their own experiences. "Fun Fun Fun" was inspired by the local Fosters Freeze hamburger stand where they hung out. This familiar subject matter helped fans connect with the songs. "It was just a phenomenal time growing up in Southern California," Love says. "Our environment gave rise to the subject matter that we put in our songs: surf and cars."
Riding the Wave
Brian thrived in his role as the Beach Boys' chief musical creator. In two years he wrote and produced five albums packed with 10 Top 40 hits. "When you're in the presence of genius, it's pretty heavy," Jardine says. By 1964 the pace became too much. After suffering a nervous breakdown while on tour, Brian retired from performing to hone his skills as a composer and producer. The result: 1966's Pet Sounds, considered one of the greatest albums of all time.
Bruce Johnston, 81, who joined the band in 1965 to fill in for Brian onstage, recalls playing it to their friendly rivals the Beatles. "[John] Lennon and [Paul] McCartney listened to the album twice," he says. "They just totally flipped out and were raving about it." Late that year they unleashed "Good Vibrations," an ambitious song that took more than six months to complete. "That was the top," says Love. "It was all about peace, love and harmony."
Transition and Betrayal
By 1969 Wilson patriarch Murry, who managed the group's music and publishing company, believed the Beach Boys' best days were behind them. Without consulting the band, he sold their publishing rights for a pittance, inciting interfamily legal squabbles. Brian grew increasingly overwhelmed by the mental health struggles that would sideline him for the next few decades. By the early '70s he had largely confined himself to bed while the band soldiered on in his home studio. "Brian was a recluse for a while," Love says. "Other people came forward with songs. It became more of a democratic process."
Death of a Beach Boy
From the outset Dennis embodied the free-spirited nature of the era -- and the risks that it entailed. In 1968 he brought a pair of hitchhikers back to his Hollywood home, only to return later to discover that they'd moved in the rest of their hippie clan, headed by Charles Manson. Ultimately Dennis abandoned his home to rid himself of the group, who would go on their murder spree months later. Gilt over his connection to the Manson family exacerbated his substance abuse. He'd been drinking when, in December 1983, he drowned while diving in Marina del Rey, Calif. He was buried at sea after special dispensation from President Ronald Reagan.
America's Band
Reagan had grown close to his home state's favorite sons and frequently invited the Beach Boys to perform July Fourth concerts on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., in the '80s. "The Beach Boys are a kind of musical Disneyland," Johnston says, marveling at the multiple generations of fans he sees at the sold-out shows they play today. Love recently heard one of their songs on the radio. He ways listening to his younger self harmonizing with his bandmates -- including Carl Wilson, who died of cancer in 1998 -- evoked a sense of wonder: "It sounded like angels." 
| Lee Majors at 85 |
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An '80s 'Fall Guy' Rises Up Again.
By Jack Smart in People
hen asked about turning 85 in April, Lee Majors jokingly makes a correction: "Fifty-eight! That's not bad is it? I get my numbers turned around sometimes." The star of The Big Valley in the '60s and The Six Million Dollar Man in the '70s celebrated his birthday in a "quiet" fashion at his Houston home, dining with a handful of close friends and Faith, his wife of 21 years. "I'm over having deals," admits the father of four, who was previously married to Kathy Robinson, Karen Valez and, most famously, Farrah Fawcett.
Today, his work life is anything but quiet, with four films and a memoir on the way. He also made a recent cameo in director David Leitch's Ryan Gosling-led The Fall Guy -- a movie loosely inspired by Majors's action-packed 1980s ABC drama series. Five years on the stunt-heavy show "physically and mentally beat" Majors down -- he's since had both knees replaced -- but he's still "looking forward to doing more work," he says. "I'm in pretty good shape!"
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