My Day with Brian Wilson
In 1996, I was lucky enough to be given an opportunity to work for The Beach Boys. The role was Assistant Tour Manager. I was 23 years old, and it was a big deal to me. Frankly, I was terrified.
A first-class ticket arrived at my apartment via FedEx, and the next day I flew from Columbus to Chicago. A car was waiting at the airport to take me to the Ritz-Carlton downtown. To say I was intimidated would be an understatement. I had never stayed at a hotel like that before.
After checking into my room, I called the friend who introduced me to their manager. I told him I was pretty sure I had talked my way into a job that was well above my pay grade. I explained that the flight and hotel amenities made it clear this was a gig meant for someone with far more experience. He just laughed and said, “Don’t worry about it. That’s just how they roll.”
An hour later, the phone rang. It was my new boss, the Tour Manager. “Do you like pizza?” he asked. We met for dinner at the original Pizzeria Uno. Over deep dish, he laid out two rules for the job:
Rule #1: We have way more money than time.
He explained that no matter what happened, we couldn’t delay travel. “We have to get from A to B on time every day. If the tour gets delayed, I can’t save you.” Then he handed me $3,000 in cash and told me to use it to tip bellmen, skycaps, limo drivers or anyone who could help move things along. “If you get jammed up, hand them $500.” And he was right. It always worked.
Rule #2: Never ask about Charles Manson.
I asked what that was about. He just stared at me. I shut my mouth and nodded. Understood.
Basically, my job was to act as a personal assistant to the four original band members and their backing musicians. I traveled across the U.S. with them for a year. We played everything from casinos to NFL games to state fairs. I met more celebrities than I can name. What I didn’t fully understand at the time was that The Beach Boys weren’t just an “oldies” group. In many ways, they were architects of modern rock and roll. Before The Beatles hit the U.S., The Beach Boys were it.
That status was due in large part to the eldest Wilson brother and creative force behind the band: Brian Wilson. He stopped touring in the ‘60s due to stress but continued to write and record in LA, often using the legendary Wrecking Crew studio musicians. The rest of the band would later add their vocals. That’s how the machine operated from that point on.
Several months into the tour, I was told Brian would be joining us for a special day. He would be playing two shows with us in one day. My boss said, “I’ll take the band, you take Brian.”
A few hours later, I walked down to the hotel lobby and saw him sitting on a sofa. I introduced myself and let him know I’d be with him for the day. He was kind, calm, and had a gentle demeanor. A true gentleman. We got in a limo and headed to the venue.
From the moment we arrived, everything backstage felt different. For one, the band’s manager (my boss’s boss) was in town. He handed me 20 copies of Good Vibrations sheet music, already signed by the other band members. My instructions were to have Brian sign them and overnight them in the FedEx envelope provided.
Brian signed them, and I sent them out. I’ve kicked myself ever since for not keeping one. Over the months, I’d learned that the coolest autographed items typically ended up with wealthy assholes. People who already had everything but still wanted to feel special. Even some of our own crew asked me to get Brian’s autograph. I didn’t understand what a big deal it was, until the show started.
Everything on stage felt different. Normally, Carl Wilson (Brian’s younger brother) and Mike Love (their cousin) ran the show. But this time, there was a piano center stage. All eyes were on Brian. He sat down and began playing God Only Knows.
In that moment, I understood everything.
His playing and voice were beautiful, soulful, and completely sincere. It became clear that all the beauty the band delivered night after night had originated from him. His heart, his soul. He wasn’t just a star. He was a true artist. A legend. And it changed me.
The world lost one of the greats today. But the world will forever be a better place because of the heartfelt music Brian Wilson gave us. I feel lucky and blessed to have been even a tiny part of it.
The world feels upside down right now. Our country has never seemed more divided. Please be kind to one another. Remember that beauty still exists in this world. Sometimes, you just have to take a moment and look for it.
Dan Cochran is a Columbus musician who played with Big Back 40 and The League Bowlers. He also founded Four String Brew.