By reaching Number One in 1964, “I Get Around” demonstrated the Beach Boys’ ability to stay alive—and even thrive—during the height of Beatlemania. Unlike a post-Beatles No. 1 like, say, the Four Seasons’ “Rag Doll,” the Beach Boys accomplished this with a record that pushed the group’s sound beyond identifiably 1950s-rooted forms. The kids loved “Fun, Fun, Fun,” but they had heard it before. “I Get Around” was something else entirely—evidence that, like the Beatles, the Beach Boys could innovate and make pop records that projected sounds that couldn’t have been on the radio in 1958 or even as late as 1963.
The song’s significance goes beyond its musical sound. While on the surface it was yet another car song, the lyric communicated boredom with routine (“the same old strip”) and foreshadowed changes for the Beach Boys. As discussed in the previous entry in the series, Part 19, “I Get Around” was a song in which a competitive Brian—who was fully aware of the challenge posed by the Beatles—celebrates confidence, forward drive, and independence. It is not a coincidence that it was the recording of this particular song that brought the father-son conflict to a boiling point, resulting in Murry’s ouster as manager. (But not his termination as “father,” which as suggested in the previous chapter, would have been impossible.)
And so the Beach Boys forged ahead without Murry for the rest of 1964. As for the fortunes of Murry himself, read on:
“I Get Around” was released in May 1964 as a single, and again in July as the lead-off track on the Beach Boys’ All Summer Long album. The album was another good collection of songs, probably the group’s best so far. It found the Beach Boys subtly moving into new creative territory, in a way that didn’t call attention to itself—the album was still, on its face, happily and uncontroversially associated with teenage life at the beach (during summer, of course).
One lone track, the forgettable “Don’t Back Down” was the last Beach Boys surfing song. “Girls on the Beach” was the last of their creamy, Four Freshmen-meet-R&B ballads. “All Summer Long” and “Wendy” had the entire group harmonizing the lead vocal; the latter also featured a spacey, modern-sounding intro. “Little Honda,” featuring the Beach Boys in five-piece garage band format, was good, though yet another example of the group straining to hawk something other than their own music. A song called “Do You Remember” was a nostalgic filler track that sounds strange coming at the height of Beatlemania, when the music was moving forward. (The tune dated back to the pre-Beatles days of 1963.) Brian looked backward and forward at the same time with “Hushabye,” a ‘50s cover song on which he experimented with his evolving arranging and production skills.
In the first half of 1964, Brian was still producing songs for his girlfriend Marilyn’s singing group, The Honeys, as well as some other artists, and by the middle of the year he had co-written and produced a song called “Sacramento,” for release as a Gary Usher solo single. It’s not too surprising to find that within weeks after Murry’s firing, Usher and Brian reunited to write a song for the Beach Boys. Usher later remembered that they intended to write a new song “like we used to.” The result was “We’ll Run Away,” which was included on All Summer Long as a relatively unnoticed album cut.
Like their earlier collaboration “In My Room,” “We’ll Run Away” was a fine ballad that was at once accessible to the listener and (perhaps unintentionally) personal for Brian. Written to be heard simply as a teenager’s lament, this two-minute song covers young love, parental restriction, a yearning for freedom through marriage, and in a disarming twist, the way that children’s lives replicate those of their parents. It commented on Brian’s life and the earlier lives of his parents. It also prefigured Brian’s immediate future, for he himself would be married by the end of the year. It could be strange that a successful, soon-to-be 22-year-old was writing (and singing) about the need to “run away,” but with Murry fired, Brian was only just now belatedly embarking on the process of becoming independent.
Meanwhile, getting sacked had drawn the wind from Murry’s sails. He was a terminally self-absorbed man with little or no awareness of who he was, where he had come from, or why he did the things he did. He was unable to appreciate the reasons why he had to step aside. To Murry, it was an unprovoked ambush—after all he had done and “sacrificed,” something he rightfully possessed had been cruelly snatched away. For some period after being fired—weeks, some say—he retreated to his bedroom and stayed there, unable to fully function. For Murry, it was very sad. Very unfair.
1964 was a rough year for Murry. Around the time the Beach Boys ended his formal tenure as manager, he also got into some kind of hot water with wife Audree. She demanded a separation. It is unknown whether Audree issued her decree before or after Murry’s firing. However, once the Beach Boys fired Murry, the balance of power in the family was in flux, and the time may have been right to reposition oneself.
Another question is what Murry possibly could have done to get his woman so angry. A cursory glance at unchallenged facts indicates that Audree was an accommodating spouse who had given her man carte blanche, including with her children. Yet Murry believed she had in fact not been loyal enough, and that her undermining ways caused (or at least contributed to) his loss of standing in the eyes of his sons (and therefore within the Beach Boys organization).1 The entire world (including his family) was unfairly aligned against him, not because of the way he treated people, but because he was Murry Wilson—because of his very existence. There was in fact nothing any person ever could have done or said to disabuse him of his delusions.2
Later this same year Murry crafted a will in which he addressed his difficulties with Audree. Author Mark Dillon discussed the will in his book Fifty Sides of the Beach Boys. Apparently, in this document Murry promised that Audree would receive 25% of the assets of the Sea of Tunes publishing company upon his death, but get 50% if she stayed married to him. Murry and Audree never divorced. (Murry would sell the publishing catalog in 1969, a few years before his death; the eventual distribution of the proceeds remains unclear.) She would stick with him, right through the last moments of his life, and defend his reputation in death. But it seems she refused to live with him under the same roof.3
This could have posed problems for the couple, but fortunately Brian’s talent provided enough cash to (later in the year) buy a new house each for his mother and father. The houses, located in the city of Whittier in Los Angeles County, were spacious dwellings situated on separate lots of 20,000 square feet and within five-minute walking distance from each other. Murry and Audree would also, for the time being, retain ownership of the humble Hawthorne dwelling in which they had raised their sons. The old house would remain vacant.4
Whittier—in these days staid, Nixonian turf—would have been a sedately appealing place to live, but for a wealthy song publisher who fancied himself a player in the ‘biz, it was nowhere. It could have been mere coincidence, but Murry’s decision to settle in Whittier aligned with his contempt for the Hollywood showbiz scene and its people, whose respect and validation he nonetheless ached for.
Murry certainly wasn’t done with the music business. By this time Carl Wilson had for at least a year maintained a friendship with a hungry young band from the Westside called the Renegades. The Renegades needed help breaking into the big time, and at some point they spoke with Carl about getting an introduction to Murry. The Renegades had somehow come to believe that Murry was a maestro of showbiz management—the man who had made the Beach Boys successful. The Renegades’ hope was that Murry would conjure his wizardry on their behalf.
The possibility of Murry adding a second group to his roster may have in fact already been floating around; previously (or perhaps around the time he got fired) Murry even flirted with erstwhile Beach Boy troublemaker David Marks. At 15 years old, David was looking to make it as the leader of a new lineup called the “Marksmen.” Murry produced the Marksmen on a handful of songs including some written by Murry himself. Murry and David clashed once again, and David thereafter seems to have walked away from Murry for good—but at a cost. According to journalist and researcher Timothy White, Murry used his connection to the Beach Boys as leverage to keep subsequent Marksmen singles off local radio playlists.
Details aside, as of the first months of 1964, Murry still only had his one client: The Beach Boys. Then the “I Get Around” session happened and he suddenly had no client. As Murry sank into a funk, Carl took pity on him. Carl had a soft touch, and at age 17 his skills as family mediator were well-honed. He later remembered that during this difficult period, he approached Murry in the bedroom (at this point Carl still lived at home in Hawthorne with his parents, who had yet to move to Whittier) and gently explained, “they really, you know, don’t want you to manage the group anymore.” Carl perhaps had already, by this time, introduced the Renegades to his father. If on the other hand, he hadn’t, he would now broker the relationship.
The Renegades had talent, and they got along with Murry. A new partnership began to form.
Murry’s work with the Renegades in 1964 is the subject of Part 21 (click here to read it)
Click here to go back to the previous chapter of A History of Brian
Selected References for Part 20
Carlin, Peter Ames. Catch a Wave: The Rise, Fall, and Redemption of the Beach Boys' Brian Wilson. Emmaus, PA: Rodale, 2006.
Crowley, Kent. Long Promised Road: Carl Wilson, Soul of the Beach Boys. London: Jawbone Press, 2015.
Dillon, Mark. Fifty Sides of the Beach Boys: The Songs That Tell Their Story. Toronto: ECW Press, 2012.
Felton, David. “The Healing of Brother Bri.” Rolling Stone, November 4, 1976.
Gaines, Steven. Heroes and Villains: The True Story of the Beach Boys. New York: Dutton/Signet, 1986.
Lambert, Philip. Inside The Music of Brian Wilson: The Songs, Sounds and Influences of the Beach Boys' Founding Genius. New York: Continuum International, 2007.
Love, Mike, with James S. Hirsch. Good Vibrations: My Life as a Beach Boy. New York: Penguin/Blue Rider, 2016.
Rusten, Ian, and Jon Stebbins. The Beach Boys in Concert: The Ultimate History of America's Band on Tour and on Stage. Milwaukee: Backbeat Books, 2013.
Stebbins, Jon. The Lost Beach Boy. London: Virgin Books, 2007.
__________. The Beach Boys FAQ: All That’s Left to Know About America’s Band. Milwaukee: Backbeat Books, 2011.
White, Timothy. The Nearest Faraway Place: Brian Wilson, the Beach Boys and the Southern California Experience. New York: Henry Holt, 1994.
Wilson, Murry. Letter to Brian Wilson. May 8, 1965. Collection of Hard Rock International/Hard Rock Memorabilia.
Uninitiated readers are encouraged to track down and review Murry’s letter to Brian dated May 8, 1965. Among many, many other things, in this letter Murry clearly expresses his belief that Audree undermined him in the home, where, “even though my wife didn’t actually say something against me,” she had presented a “look of resentment against authority…”
Based on Murry’s May 1965 letter (and what is otherwise known about him), a therapist, psychiatrist, or other person who views human relationships through the scientific lens would probably speculate about the balance of neurochemicals in Murry’s brain or arrive at various formal diagnoses, such as “narcissistic personality disorder.” Regular people would instead just see him as a moral degenerate. As Brian said around 2004, Murry was “a very, very hostile, messed up man, with a lot of hatred in him”—a phrase which somehow seems more accurate and to-the-point than any medical jargon that might be thrown around.
It has been hinted at here and there that the contentious issue in the marriage was Murry’s marital infidelity, not anything relating to the way he treated the boys.
According to Los Angeles County records, the Wilsons did not finalize purchase of Murry’s new home until November 1964. Records indicate that Audree’s separate home in Whittier was not purchased until February 1965. In any event, the house in Hawthorne is commonly believed to have been vacated by both parents as of late December 1964, the point at which Brian Wilson had his nervous breakdown and returned with his mother to the (empty) house in Hawthorne.