SAN DIEGO — The term “tortured genius” has been too liberally applied to a number of great and not-so-great artists over the years, but Brian Wilson is one of the few who truly qualified for both designations. The announcement of his death Wednesday at the age of 82 silences one of the most transcendent musical voices of his generation — a deeply troubled man-child whose best music exuded joy and beauty with a unique combination of sophistication and wide-eyed youthful wonder.

“I never knew what ‘genius’ meant. I think it means ‘clever.’ I don’t know,” Wilson said in 2016 during my sixth and most recent San Diego Union-Tribune interview with him.

Both as the mastermind of the Beach Boys and in his best work as a solo artist, Wilson demonstrated a singular degree of melodic ingenuity, emotional depth and meticulous craftsmanship. He was able to create gorgeous sonic soundscapes despite — and, perhaps, in response to — the physical and mental travails he underwent for much of his life.

Wilson’s father, Murry, battered Brian psychologically and physically, including hitting his then-teenaged son in the head so hard with a two-by-four piece of wood that the younger Wilson lost his hearing in one ear. Later in his life, he was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder and manic depression.

Years of drug abuse also left their mark on Wilson. So did the weighty expectations placed on him as a result of the Beach Boys’ multimillion-selling records and the lavish critical praise he received.

“Yeah, the success I achieved was expensive for a couple of reasons,” Wilson said in a 1991 Union-Tribune interview. “One, it made it difficult for me to live up to what I had achieved. … It’s like when you plant seeds earlier in your life: ‘I’m going to be successful in the recording industry; I’m gonna be a good singer,’ and you achieve that.

“Then what happens? You’re going, ‘Hey, what’s wrong here?’ Then one day it occurs to you that the seeds you planted were a little too big, that you’re not going to be able to get the goal that you set for yourself, because you set it too high. That happens to a lot of people. And your encore is more of the same, and pretty soon you go crazy and you say, ‘I can’t do this. What am I? I can’t do this’.”

Classic songs

What Wilson did do, both during and — at times — after his 1960s heyday, will continue to stand the test of time.

The list of classic songs he wrote or co-wrote includes “Surfin’ U.S.A.,” “California Girls,” “In My Room,” “Good Vibrations,” “God Only Knows,” “Don’t Worry Baby,” “I Get Around,” “The Warmth of the Sun,” “Surfs Up,” “Sail On, Sailor,” “Fantasy Is Reality/Bells of Madness,” “I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times” and a good number more.

Also on that list is the gorgeous, deeply melancholic “Summer’s Gone,” a standout number from the Beach Boys’ final album with Wilson, 2012’s “That’s Why God Made the Radio.” And, of course, the entire “Pet Sounds” album, the landmark 1966 opus that has been ranked ever since as one of the greatest recordings of the 20th century.

Wilson had mixed emotions when he reflected on the making of “Pet Sounds” in our 1991 interview.

“I use(d) drugs to create ‘Pet Sounds,’ and they do help me and it was an experience for me. Although, at the same time, I was very dismayed at the fact that not too long afterwards, I was smoking (marijuana), I was using drugs much more profusely than I did with ‘Pet Sounds.’

“And I began to grow up, because I said, ‘If I can create ‘Pet Sounds’ on drugs, I can create something greater on drugs.’ So I made ‘Good Vibrations’ on drugs; I used drugs to make that. I was on drugs. I learned how to function behind drugs and it improved my brain, it improved the way I was, it made me more rooted in my sanity.

“The only thing is a couple of side effects, like paranoia and b.s. like that,” he continued. “But you can get over that, you know, simply by not overdoing it. If you do it in moderation, you see, I took drugs in moderation (and) I was able to create, I could create. It gave me the ability — carte blanche — to create something, you know what I mean?

“And that’s where it’s at; drugs aren’t where it’s at. But, for me, that’s where it was at in 1966. And I got off the stuff. I said, ‘Hey, I don’t need this anymore’.”

San Diego Zoo visit

The cover photo for “Pet Sounds” was taken at the San Diego Zoo.

“I can’t remember who came up with the idea. I think I did,” said Wilson in 2016, while acknowledging his zoo visit was a one-off. “Have I ever been back? No. Never again.”

Wilson’s influence on several generations of musicians and fans is a matter of record. His admirers include Paul McCartney, Elton John, Weezer, Ireland’s Prefab Sprout, Fontaines D.C. and such San Diego artists as Cindy Lee Berryhill and Blink-182. Another San Diego-bred band, Nickel Creek, drew great inspiration from Wilson’s legendary 1966 and 1967 recording sessions for his wildly experimental album “SMilE.”

“There is such freedom, such curiosity and wonder permeating every single track on ‘SMiLE’,” said Nickel Creek’s Chris Thile in a 2023 Union-Tribune interview about “Celebrants,” his band’s then-new album.

“Because (Wilson) didn’t ever finish ‘SMiLE,’ it’s such a springboard to one’s own musical imagination and possibilities. The greatest pieces of art are empowering in that way. They kind of rocket you into creativity. I think any number of brilliant pieces of art feel gloriously unfinished in that way. So, we sat up late at the beginning of the writing process for ‘Celebrants’ and used ‘SMiLE’ as a springboard…”

Wilson was a Kennedy Center honoree and a Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductee. His life was chronicled in the 2015 biopic, “Love & Mercy,” in which two actors — Paul Dano and John Cusack — portrayed him. Wilson was pleased with the casting, he told me, but not with the depictions of some of his drug use.

“The actors were cast very well,” Wilson said. “They hung out with me to get to know me. I can’t wait to see how the movie does (with audiences). I didn’t give (the actors) any advice, (but) John Cusack did (get) my sense of humor pretty good. It’s a fun movie. I had a really good time watching it.

“The dark parts, where I took drugs, that was hard to watch.”

‘A little intimidating’

The Beach Boys’ first headlining concert in San Diego was in 1964 at Russ Auditorium. Wilson’s most recent area show with the band was at Cricket Wireless Amphitheatre in Chula Vista for the group’s short-lived 50th anniversary tour in 2012.

As a solo artist, he performed here at an array of venues, including Humphreys, the San Diego County Fair Grandstand Stage and the Rady Shell, where his final San Diego show took place Aug. 31, 2021.

Wilson looked frail and often sounded ragged at his Shell concert which saw him in the motorized wheelchair he had started using a few years earlier. His final concert was in 2022. Last year, following the death of his wife, Melinda, he was placed into a conservatorship.

Between 1991 and 2016, I was fortunate to do six interviews with Wilson, three in person and three by phone.

As the years progressed, he went from being open and talkative — if sometimes paranoid and unsure of himself — to being terse and withdrawn. His eyes still sparkled at times, even as his inner light seemed to be fading. But he would suddenly come alive when he connected with a question, just as he still could briefly come alive on stage when he connected with one of his timeless songs.

Our first interview, 34 years ago, took place at Wilson’s Malibu home and in a limousine taking him to the UCLA campus. Our most recent interview was on the ninth floor of the Capitol Records Tower in Hollywood.

It was the same Capitol Tower that the Beach Boys first visited in 1962 to sign their contract with Capitol Records. When I asked Wilson to recall his first time at there, he replied: “It was a little intimidating. All my heroes had recorded here, Nat ‘King’ Cole, the Four Freshmen …”

Wilson was just 20 at the time. His goals, beyond making records, were undefined.

“I didn’t have any notion. I had no idea,” he admitted.

“The goal was to take it one year at a time. (After 1963) I wanted to do rock ’n’ roll music. … I didn’t take my fame very seriously, you know. But (success) did put pressure on me to record good music. And, yeah, it became difficult. After ‘Pet Sounds,’ I wanted to try and do something that would be just as good, or better.

“I want to do the best I can.”

Happily, when he was at the peak of his powers, Wilson’s best was often better than nearly anyone else’s.

His earthly travails were soul-sapping and then some. But, like millions of listeners, Wilson found salvation in his music and he shared it with the world.

Or, as he told me in 1991: “Music does wash away the dust of everyday life; it cleanses the soul, too. It also does subliminal things to people.”

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