Al Jardine Tells All About the Beach Boys’ New Movie and Their First Book

What was your impression of the Wilson brothers’ overbearing father, Murry?

It’s never good to have a father for a manager. It just doesn’t work. It was always contentious. He saw us as a bunch of lazy bums who never earned a living other than sitting around the piano room singing together. He came from a blue-collar background and was a frustrated songwriter, so when he saw Brian having success with his very first song, he resented it.

Was the happiest period when you had that astonishing string of hits — “Help Me, Rhonda,” “Fun, Fun, Fun,” “Be True to Your School,” “Barbara Ann”?

Yeah. There were no clunkers. But there was always a little tension, like in any other band. Dennis and Mike were competitive. We all seemed to make it work.

Yet not everyone in the band shared the vision behind Brian’s groundbreaking Pet Sounds.

I don’t know if anybody understood his vision quite as much as the Wrecking Crew [Glen Campbell, Leon Russell, Carol Kaye and Hal Blaine], the top-flight musicians who helped him make the album. We were the touring band. When we came from home from Japan, Brian introduced us to it. I heard it as a Brian Wilson album. It could have, should have been. But Brian wasn’t going to promote his own album. He didn’t have the desire, so it stayed in the Beach Boys family. It was a tough sell. People wanted to hear the happy, uplifting stuff. It took a while for people to appreciate it. It did influence the Beatles to make Sgt. Pepper.

Did you have any discomfort adjusting to the shift on Pet Sounds?

My issue was the cover. On the back, we’re in Japanese garb, and on the front, we’re feeding animals. The artwork doesn’t work at all in describing what’s in the album. Capitol dropped the ball on that one.

When the Beach Boys formed, four were family and you were the friend. Did you ever feel like an outsider?

I was always embraced. If anybody felt like an outsider, it would be David Marks [now 75], who subbed for me while I was away. He was a gear in the machine. Dave had a big falling out with Murry and got fired. He was awfully young, maybe 13 or 14, and it was unpleasant.

When Dennis struck up a friendship with Charles Manson, who contributed to the Beach Boys’ “Never Learn Not to Love,” was it a low point?

No kidding. Of all the people to run across in L.A., what are the odds? “Never Learn Not to Love.” Can you believe that? A double negative? Charlie put in a little melody line: “La da da.” There was no way to get rid of Charlie. He was determined to make his mark in the music business. He even recorded in our studio at Brian’s house. He’s got an unreleased album that’s still there somewhere in the vault. He was pernicious. He stole one of my beautiful Martin guitars. But I’m glad I didn’t give Charlie any crap about it.

How did Dennis’ and Carl’s deaths change the course of the Beach Boys?

When Dennis died, we still had a consensus on what direction we wanted to go. After Carl died, it was decided that Mike Love would be the Beach Boys. He has the exclusive license to tour as the Beach Boys. That didn’t feel so good because I had to reinvent myself.

How have you coped with the friction and lawsuits?

It’s harder on the wives. We seem to go back to our childhoods when we see each other. We automatically think musically instead of politically or financially. I know Mike goes out there and makes millions more than I do, but it doesn’t seem to matter. You just move on and enjoy the ride. I am restricted from using the Beach Boys name, which does still rankle. I am a Beach Boy. Somehow it’s not an issue when we get together. We can still make a documentary or a book.

How often do you see Brian?

I don’t see him on a regular basis, because I live in Big Sur and it’s hard to get in and out because of the weather [and consequent landslides]. He’s a great friend and mentor, a regular guy who happens to be a genius.

Since 2006, you’ve joined Brian for nearly all his shows, and you’ve had a busy solo career. What’s ahead?

I may actually revive Brian’s band and bring it out on the road, if it’s feasible without Brian. I have written a follow-up to “Kokomo” called “Islands in the Sun.” I think it’s as good or better than “Kokomo,” and when you’ve done this as long as I have, you know a hit when you hear it. It’s Harry Belafonte meets the Beach Boys. It’s got a lovely Caribbean rhythm. I also recorded a song with Neil Young about a young man going off to war, called “My Plane Leaves Tomorrow.” Pretty heavy, especially now. And I’ll keep touring. When I go out on my own, it’s fantastic. You can’t help but get a great review singing some of the best songs ever written. My voice is getting down into the baritone range. It’s kind of fun singing Mike Love’s parts now.