Chicken Parmesan and Brian Wilson

Well its been building up inside of me
For oh I don't know how long
I don't know why
But I keep thinking
Something's bound to go wrong

(Santa Monica, 1994)  Uncle Mike is working on the 10th Street house.  I am helping, outside painting one of the doors, the melodic backdrop of "Don't Worry Baby" filling the California afternoon.  I have neither Brian Wilson's wistful falsetto nor any hope of pitch, but it's too sweet a song not to sing along.  After the fifth replay of the song, Uncle Mike pokes his head out the back door and begins to laugh.

"You listen to music that was out like thirty years ago."

"Sure," I reply.  "But that doesn't make it any less superb."

The CD player automatically replays the song again.

But she looks in my eyes
And makes me realize
And she says don't worry baby
Don't worry baby
Don't worry baby
Everything will turn out all right

Don't worry baby
Don't worry baby
Don't worry baby

I get this reaction a lot:  "Beach Boys."  Shudder.  "Ewww."

"Never mind," advises my aunt Lori.  "While everyone else was stealing other people's music or riding on the shoulders of breakthroughs before them, Brian Wilson was creating something new."

I'm of the opinion that the Beach Boys' music sounds clichéd to modern ears because (for most us in the States) their music is indelibly and inexcusably linked with commercials and pop culture.  In my head, I can still see the Sunkist commercial in the 80s which feature "Good Vibrations" as its musical centerpiece.  But  just because something is trite doesn't mean it isn't good.

I guess I should've kept my mouth shut
When I started to brag about my car
But I can't back down now
I pushed the other guys too far

She makes me come alive
And makes me wanna drive
When she says don't worry baby
Don't worry baby
Don't worry baby
Everything will turn out all right

Take chicken parmesan.  When was the last time you ordered this dish in a restaurant or had the urge to make it?  Chicken Parmesan is one of those workhorse dishes that appears on most Italian restaurant menus yet no one feels inclined to order it.  "Oh God that dish is so passe," shuddered a friend when we were at a swank Italian restaurant in New York.  La Tavola in Atlanta, a favorite Italian trattoria, has never put that dish on its menu even though other classics have found their way on and off.  I asked Heath (their former head chef) about it once.  He smiled and said, "Too old school."  But he agreed that it's hard to go wrong with chicken breasts dredged in butter and breadcrumbs, and baked under a blanket of tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese.

And in my own collection, among 100+ cookbooks, I could not find a recipe for Chicken Parmesan.  Either I have the wrong cookbooks or this dish is anathema to most cookbook recipe writers.  And consulting various cooking websites, I discovered that their versions of Chicken Parmesan were too haute or modified and updated to resemble the original dish.  Is it because it's a simple dish?  is that why it's considered pedestrian?  When does a classic cross the line to cliche?

Don't worry baby
Don't worry baby
Don't worry baby

She told me baby, when you race today
Just take along my love with you
And if you know how much I loved you
Baby nothing could go wrong with you

(Santa Monica, 1995)  So I'm watching a documentary on Brian Wilson...and I feel like crying.  I know it sounds completely stupid but this is a man whose music I admire and whose songs I know backwards and forwards; and there he is, a virtual wreck of ruined cadence in speech and vocals.  His voice is aged and shaking, the result of years of alleged abuse.  In his interviews, he sounds timid and scared, his inflections odd, as though he's forgotten how to talk.  And when he sings.  Oh man. 

I keep muttering, "Oh my God."

Then he sings, "Caroline, No," one of my favorite songs from the seminal "Pet Sounds," and I nearly come unglued.  I have to remind myself that he's not a teenager any more and it's impossible to expect a man whose life is (in)famously consumed with  illness and drugs to sound the same as he did some decades earlier (never mind Paul McCartney!).  And seriously, just when I'm about to change the channel because it's too painful to watch, "The Warmth of the Sun," comes on.  The song was written on the same day that President Kennedy was assassinated and Wilson said in an interview that he always associates the song with that day.  If we're going to get totally gooey on it, the song makes me think of the end of innocence; makes me think of the passing of one generation (the post-war) to another (the hippies); makes me think of helicopters flying over rice paddies (I think this a leftover shaving of the movie "Good Morning Vietnam"); makes me think of a long farewell.  His take on "The Warmth of the Sun" has none of the strength or resonance of his youth; but he sings it as an older man with weight and sincerity; and it's this evocative wistfulness that saves the song from ruination (think Maria Callas post-weight loss and after 1954).

It's about as much as I can take.  I grab car keys and head out to my car.

The sun roof's open, my windows are down, and I'm cruising up Pacific Coast Highway towards Malibu.  Brian Wilson's falsetto rings loud and clear on the stereo.

Oh what she does to me
When she makes love to me
And she says don't worry baby
Don't worry baby
Everything will turn out all right

Don't worry baby
Don't worry baby
Don't worry baby

This is how Brian Wilson's music is meant to be heard:  in the milieu to which it pays homage.  The Beach Boys never sound so right as when you're driving up and down PCH with the sun setting in the water and the ocean sparkling in the remnants of the day.

If you're going to be cliched, you need to make it worthwhile. 

Elise has an amazing recipe here:  Chicken Parmesan

Comments

[barbara]

Cath I saw that documentary. I've also seen a more recent one based on Live at The Roxy Theatre. We were in Melbourne last year and it played late at night on TV. We searched Melbourne until we found the CD. We then played it non stop as we drove for 5 days up up to Brisbane. Bryan Wilson combined with a new younger, modern musicians - fantastic. My husband is a singer and does Darlin' from the album. Or the old songs are there but better.

[Jen O'Connor]

hi there -- referred to your BLOG by our mutual friend Jen G

great wiritng and great topics I will be back...

and I have a killer guinness cholate cake recipe...just google
"chocolate stout cake" it's the one from Bon Apetite Sept 2004

a winner...my sister-in-law serves it in ehr tea room to dedicated followers and guiness fans galore.

Jen

[cath]

Barbara, oh I got the entire CD for Live at the Roxy -- I mean, for all the shock of seeing and hearing him, I still love the man's music. In fact, I'm listening to his version of "Don't Worry Baby" from Live at the Roxy now...

Jen, thanks for coming by and dropping me a note! This is Jen G from CVP yes? :-)