In the late 1980’s and early 1990’s I was playing my role as the classic Angry Young Man, full of spit and vinegar at anything that reeked of nostalgia. Part of this was fueled by the fact that it seemed that at that time popular culture seemed to start going hard with the concept of “classic rock” and a lot of music from the 1950’s and 1960’s was getting resurrected, radio stations were changing formats to going all oldies, bands were going on reunion tours, and the overall pattern of chasing Boomer dollars had begun.

(For the time being we will ignore my hypocrisy of not having any problem with 1960’s music that was “cool” according to me and my friends, such as Jimi Hendrix, post-psychedelic Beatles, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Grateful Dead, anything soul/funk, and my Dad’s favorite band, The Velvet Underground).

One of my part time jobs during university was working at the call center for a certain ticket-selling behemoth. They were slightly less evil at the time then they are now, and their proximity to campus and hours of operation were really convenient for students. The job attracted quite a diverse crowd of individuals. One of the people I happened to meet was the future author and podcaster Mark Dillon.

(Author’s note that everything past this point is relying on my very foggy memory, so please don’t take anything as gospel truth).

Mark had made a student film at the time, and one of the actors (maybe the only actor) was another co-worker. Somehow he had gotten Stephen Page and/or the Barenaked Ladies to write music for the film. This would have been before their first major label release, possibly even before The Yellow Album was released. In the process of discussing the Barenaked Ladies, the subject of their song “Brian Wilson” came up. I did not realize at the time that Mark was a huge Beach Boys fan, so Mark started sharing his love for the band and some details about the Beach Boys.

My interest in 60’s music had always been towards the harder, more psychedelic, or lo-fi side of things, and I had always written off the Beach Boys as pop junk (their 1988 release of Kokomo didn’t do them any favors). Mark however was able to make a case for Brian Wilson’s genius and open my mind to how he tried to drive popular music forward as an artform.

Soon after our initial conversation Mark gave me a tape of Beach Boys music. Again my memory is foggy but I believe it was either Smiley Smile or a bootleg of what would eventually become Brian Wilson’s original vision for Smile. And while I never became the world’s number one Beach Boys fan, I definitely heard what Mark was talking about and thought about the band and Brian Wilson in a much different light.

I originally started this post with the intent of posing the question of whether things like this ever happen any more, but instead I think I’ll move in a different direction.

I am so thankful for the times in my life when I’ve sat down to have a casual conversation with someone and it’s turned into a new discovery.

And as a result, there is a little extra sadness in my heart today hearing that Brian Wilson has passed away, because Mark Dillon taught me how to appreciate him a little more.

Never be afraid to share what you’re passionate about. Not everyone will be a convert, but you never know how what you say will resonate with someone decades later.