A song written by music geeks for music geeks? Nom, nom, nom. Delicious.

Barenaked Ladies formed in Canada in the late 1980s, initially as a duo comprised of Ed and Steven, who met at a music-oriented summer camp. They gradually expanded into a full-fledged band with Andy, Jim, and Tyler, and built a reputation and a following based on their quirky, humorous songs about surviving adolescence in “Grade 9,” asking their love interest to “Be My Yoko Ono,” and making a list of what to do “If I Had $1,000,000.” But what elevated the band — and kept them from being a one-dimensional, flash in the pan novelty act — were their other songs, the ones with unexpected emotional depth.

One of their earliest multi-dimensional songs, appearing on a couple of the band’s cassette-only indie releases, was written by Steven about his late-night drives to a record store in Toronto. His battles with depression felt analogous to Beach Boy Brian Wilson, who famously built a giant sandbox in his living room, had periods where he barely left his bed, and in the 1980s fell under the sway of a dubious therapist who exerted a little too much influence. Steven wrote lyrics that referenced all of this and the song — appropriately titled “Brian Wilson” — was rerecorded for the band’s debut album. Four years later, a live version became a surprise hit, which is how a wider audience began to discover Barenaked Ladies.

It’s not surprising that the band’s breakout moment in the US — which helped lay the groundwork for their greatest success — should reference Brian Wilson, another artist who wasn’t afraid of showing his range, one who could have faded away in the mid-60s had he stuck to writing exclusively about surfing and hot rods. Remember, kids: Emotional resonance leads to lasting relevance.

So listen and re-listen … with Barenaked Ladies.

The above is the studio version of “Brian Wilson,” but when the live version started to gain radio play in 1997 the attention and name recognition it brought to the band helped Barenaked Ladies score a surprise #1 in 1998 with “One Week” (NB: those rap verses are improvised):