Uncanny

TELEGRAPH JOURNAL Dennis Wilson's longtime friend and co-writer Gregg Jakobson, says, "I always felt that, sooner or later, it would manifest, it would come out of the archives, come out of the vaults," he says. "Because it was too good. It hasn't changed, it's kinda timeless."

"He never did verse-chorus-verse-chorus stuff anyway. It was much more flow-of-consciousness music."

"I really wasn't surprised, because after all, I knew him as a teenager, as all those kids were. With Dennis, I couldn't help but notice he really was getting more sophisticated and writing better, his vocabulary had come up. I thought it was just great, he was writing some beautiful music."

"And, mind you, I was working with some of the great composers and writers, and there's no question that, had Dennis not met his unfortunate end, he probably would have been ranked up there with many of those writers. He was great."

"He had a teacher, his mentor was a musical genius: his brother. And all that stuff kept going in, and all the music and all the shows. All of a sudden, all that music, all that DNA that was in there, just surfaced He literally almost could sit down at the piano and play whole passages, whole arrangements, as if they, I'm sure, had been there all along. It's just that he never did it. They just finally surfaced."

"If Dennis had been alive these last 30 years, I can't imagine where he would have gone, 'cause he was just starting to scratch the surface with the studio and music when he left, when he passed away. Like his big brother, he really used the studio as an instrument."

"I think it'll wash away some of that stupid gossip that's out there, and a lot of it is stupid gossip. But yeah, Dennis was Dennis, he was always the kid who lit the empty lot next door on fire when he was 10. He's always been that."