Brian Wilson & Early Instance of Genius Lunacy
Reflecting on the Lyrically Strangest #1 Song Ever
Will we ever know the number of Generation Xers conceived to an enormously popular song about a guy awkwardly brooding over his ex?
When Beach Boy co-founder, producer and tormented genius Brian Wilson died in his sleep on June 11, 2025 at age 82, worthy tributes roared in like a high-tide California surf.
Friends, collaborators, critics and fans alike reflected on his life as if mimicking the celestial harmonies so characteristic to his years of remarkable music output.
Long-time co-producer Van Dyke Parks offered one of the best summaries, noting how “his music documented an America that no longer exists.”1
Many elegies noted some of Wilson’s deep inner turmoil within a fragile fraternal circle, including having to deal with a physically and emotionally abusive father, as well as a troubled journey into nervous breakdowns, an extended drug addiction and his isolation with periodic writer’s block.
Sensibly, the impromptu funeral choir focused on his vast musical creativity, which involved a rather obvious, rather intense Beatles vs. Beach Boys competition, peaking with the astounding 1966 masterpiece Pet Sounds, following the McCartney-Lennon masterwork, Rubber Soul in 1965.
I don’t mean no disrespect, but. . . but his death abruptly reminded me of one of his strangest contributions.
The lyrical appeal of the most bizarre number one song ever released, consumed and celebrated.
Help Me, Rhonda.
“Somehow it all works. At least, if no one dwells too much on the words.”
Before we dive into the bizzarro lyrical content, we should mention a little historical background.
Curiously, this second Beach Boys #1 single knocked the astonishing Ticket to Ride, by the Beatles, from the top of the Billboard charts by late May, 1965.
The original version oddly misspelled Rhonda’s name (why “Ronda?”), with the rare appearance of Beach Boy Al Jardine on lead vocals (not Brian), perhaps hinting at the lyricist’s insecurities (with bandmate Mike Love adding a couple of lines).
Many of the most famous West Coast studio musicians of the day joined the modified single release, including Glenn Campbell on 12-string, drummer Hal Blaine, bassist Carol Kaye and Leon Russell playing some grand piano filler.
In the middle of the grand 2:45 minute adventure, Russell clumsily balks at any attempt for some semblance of a solo on the keys. He soon defers to the famous session player Bill Pitman, who clumsily jumps in with a loud, three-second electric guitar riff.
It sounds like he had one half-baked idea before quickly just giving up and yielding to the song’s strange refrain, repeated ceaselessly, with the usual heavenly harmonies.
Somehow it all works.
At least, if no one dwells too much on the words.
When digesting the self-pitying verses, the some 50 (!) “help me” pleas, it almost reads as a desperate cry for a therapeutic healing referral, an option much less in vogue, or in the vernacular at the time.
Did Rhonda end up easing his pain?
Does she represent the stand-in for default lovers and spouses everywhere?
Or does it just offer a really peculiar honesty in trying to win someone over?
To Brian Wilson’s credit, his lyrics displayed a willingness to be emotionally vulnerable, even long after he stopped touring with the band, after he drifted away from the public eye, even after the Beach Boys started fading from being relevant, commercially and creatively.
Perhaps the surprising appeal of Help Me Rhonda suggests a dysfunctional America at the time, still clinging to some vague sentimentality almost two years after the Kennedy assassination, unprepared for the growing civil rights unrest and the escalating nightmare in Vietnam.
In sum, I offer the one-act below, as both a tribute and short comic reenactment.
Feel free to provide some chart-topping contenders, particularly the Generation X demographic, yet I reaffirm Help Me Rhonda:
The All-Time Lyrically Weirdest Number 1 Song.
Note the link to the track with the actual lyrics for additional reference.
May you help me, reader, get the late Brian Wilson out of my heart.
Brian Wilson posing with slightly ludicrous late 1970s baseball-style t-shirt.
Photo by Guy Webster, 1979
“Help Me Rhonda, The Three-Minute One-Act Comedy Version”
BRIAN and RHONDA share a moment near a boardwalk parking meter. Suggested attire: 1960s beach wear. BRIAN So, Roda. RHONDA Rhonda. BRIAN Yes, Rhonda. Sorry, I’m a bit nervous. You caught my eye. RHONDA What’s the problem, surfer guy? BRIAN Actually, I don’t surf. It’s just a fashionable lyrical device, mostly for our teenage audience. RHONDA I don’t surf either. BRIAN You are so hot. You gotta help me. RHONDA I don’t have any money— BRIAN No, my fiancé, she called off our marriage and left with some other guy. RHONDA You poor thing. BRIAN It really ruined our plan. RHONDA Probably shattered it. BRIAN Help me, Rhonda, help, help me, Rhonda. RHONDA She sounds cruel. I could dry your tears— BRIAN Help me, Rhonda. I could give you lots of reasons why. RHONDA Multiple reasons? BRIAN It wouldn't take much time. RHONDA How do you deal with your unfortunate turn-of-events? BRIAN She was gonna be my wife, but, ah, now she’s just in my head. RHONDA How’s that? BRIAN I drive out late, and in the mornings, I just lay in bed. Alone. You gotta help me, Rhonda. RHONDA Looks like you need some love and affection. BIRAN I did have a nervous breakdown, a couple of months ago on a plane. Help me, Rhonda. RHONDA You're a bit vague on what you really need. BRIAN I'm on the verge of recording the most influential LP album ever made. It'll be called Pet Sounds. Get the hidden inuendo? RHONDA Guess it's better than, um, Petting Noises. BRIAN Even the Beatles will become insanely jealous. Insanely. RHONDA But I'm not even a musician— BRIAN But you could help me with my next release. RHONDA Have you tried any therapy, yet? BRIAN I'd much rather try you. Help me, Rhonda. RHONDA A good therapist could really help. BRIAN Maybe after all the drugs wear off. Help me Rhonda, help, help me Rhonda. RHONDA (pausing) So, basically, you need some sympathy sex? BRIAN That's rather blunt. Is it that obvious? RHONDA A pity-me pajama party? BRIAN There’s room for you in my T-Bird. Help me. RHONDA You have your own T-Bird? BRIAN Yes. I also retain a major contract with Capitol Records. Help me, Rhonda. RHONDA Right now? BRIAN Yes, I know a secluded place where we can park the car. RHONDA To get her out of you? BRIAN With your help. You gotta help me— RHONDA Just me and you? BRIAN Yes! RHONDA No lingering fiancé? BRIAN Not now, not if you help me. RHONDA No unmentionable substitute fantasy you secretly retain? BRIAN As long as you help me, Rhonda. RHONDA From now on, I can sort of replace her? BRIAN Yes, you gotta help me, Rhonda, yeah. RHONDA/BRIAN (harmonizing) Get her of my heart! BRIAN Yeah! Let’s go! A sputtering, familiar guitar solo fades in and out as the two joyfully depart, singing the last verse in unison, arm in arm.
I'm not sure why you find this song so disturbing. It would be great if every relationship was built on just their experience with each other and no background hurt and heartbreak - whether romantic in nature or familiar or otherwise - tainted their union.
Often, and more the norm, I think people find themselves reaching out and clinging to another out of a need to fill a void and maybe help them feel better about themselves. It would be interesting to know how many unions and marriages result from just this experience.
The cringe implication is a sudden request for sex to help him overcome his broken heart but I think that too is defacto. I'm sure it happens with both men and women where they seek out partners to fill a void and a need over establishing a true and less ving relationship. More a human than cringe response so I'm still not sure why you seem so upset over the lyrics.
Have you seen the Movie, Love and Mercy, starring John Cusack? I absolutely loved it and thought it was an honest portrayal of a troubled musical genius. It almost seems to be inherent with creative artists of all types that they suffer from some sort of crippling issue that manifests in one form or another. Anyway, if you haven't seen the Movie, I hope you get a chance to watch it and let me know what you think.
P.S. My first indication that someone is struggling with their relationship or broken up is a phone call from a good friend that I haven't heard from in a long time. I take no offense. They may not get what they thought they needed but a listening ear from a good friend has to offer some sort of comfort and relief.