I think the mistake listening to Pet Sounds is to expect audio pyrotechnics, some sort of forcefulness or "wow" factor that separates it from the rest of the al

I think the mistake listening to Pet Sounds is to expect audio pyrotechnics, some sort of forcefulness or "wow" factor that separates it from the rest of the albums of its time. It's almost the exact opposite. Instead of musical forcefulness or bombast, Brian Wilson doubled down on an almost shocking emotional honesty and tenderness. Nobody can deny the majesty of the 1812 Orchestra or Flight of the Valkyries, but Pet Sounds is the gentle sound of a summer romance blowing away in the breeze as the leaves change color. The instrumentation and production draws more on the soundtracks of the '60s than straight-ahead rock; it's filmic but quiet and understated. In the right state of mind, it puts you in touch with yearning and loss at the same time it's as light and lush as a sunny weekend drive down the coast. This, of course, was a terrible mistake commercially - few in 1966 who were fans of "Surfin' Safari" or "California Girls" wanted an album of sweet romantic yearning with a light but heavily orchestrated sound. In fact, many today still don't want that. But that's what's there; an emotional and orchestral complexity missing from other works of the time made at the expense of AM-radio stomp.