Seeing Brian Wilson in concert has always been hit or miss, dating back to his retirement days of….the sixties? Seventies? Eighties? Brian’s long and twisted history is fraught with success, disaster, genius, madness, drug problems, public and private displays of instability…the whole gamut of a colorful life gone off the rails.
I had the good fortune of being offered free tickets for this show just after seeing the brilliant film Love and Mercy which details the Pet Sounds/Smile era of the sixties while simultaneously detailing his lowest point of therapy in the 80’s. (Any Beach Boys fan needs to see this movie immediately.) This confluence of events led me to being hyped for a show like I hadn’t in a long while. I mean, this is one of the living legends of rock. Mick Jagger and the Stones? McCartney? Seen them recently and they are the fiber of a living breathing rock history that dates back to the early 60’s. The Beatles and the Rolling Stones are responsible for most of the monumental moments in 60’s rock. But the Beach Boys slot in there earlier than the Stones and mere months behind the Beatles with their 1961 formation. They are the longest running live band in rock. Pet Sounds is mentioned in many writers lists as the top album in the history of rock. Brian Wilson often mentioned as the equal of McCartney/Lennon in songwriting. This was going to be a legendary evening. And then…
Brian appeared nearly comatose on stage. Surrounded by a powerhouse band featuring original Beach Boy Al Jardine and guitarist and early 70’s Beach Boy Blondie Chaplin, crackling side musicians (11 piece band) and a vibrant light show, it was a spectacle. Jardine sounds like it’s 1969 still, and Chaplin (the youngster at 69) ripped some riffs into the night that clearly frightened some of the timid in the crowd. Double jumbo screens on either side of the stage flashed the close ups. An impressive 28 song setlist was on display and flawlessly executed. This band can smoke the current ‘Beach Boys’ Mike Love led unit.
(quick aside: five or so years ago, I was on the beach at Cape Cod, and across the water I heard what I commented was ‘the worst Beach Boys cover band ever’ drunkenly butcher some classics. Turns out later it was actually the real Beach Boys playing a private show for some Kennedy affiliated event.)
But after a while, I noticed something odd: any time it seemed Brian wasn’t playing piano (honestly most of the night) or actually singing, the cameras studiously avoided him and concentrated on the musicians in the wings, Al’s face singing…anything that wasn’t close to the grand piano that did a great job at blocking most of Brian’s body from the crowd. What was going on? I watched closer. Brian often led songs off in a shaky but recognizable voice, but soon deferred to his full voiced band-mates and the ever dependable Jardine. His arms grew dormant as if he was waiting for the next duty awaiting him, face impassive as the band delivered the goods all around him, blaring the glorious harmonies that fueled many peoples childhoods up to the top of the arena. This was really incongruous, some of the snappiest versions of songs I’d heard from the Beach Boys in decades while Brian seemed mostly detached from the proceedings.
(for those who may not know, Mike Love owns the name Beach Boys, while the two main founding members are not allowed to use the name)
Wilson has a script that shows up on a teleprompter that gives him the ability to interact with the crowd, and lend an air of normalcy to the proceedings, but one gets the impression that he would read anything on the screen (something that actually happened at the Bridge School Benefit in 1999 after his singing with Eddie Vedder Sheryl Crow and Neil Young). I wasn’t the only one in the rock world to posit that he wasn’t completely in control of the proceedings as noticed two years ago after a London show in the Guardian. (read the comments below that article from many who saw the show)
Still, anyone who has vaguely followed the torturous life Brian has led since the mid 60’s, there is a poignancy in his shaky voice. The scars of the veritable psychic wars this man has survived are on display, with little to disguise them. There is a celebration going on in front of you, a celebration of survival, and a celebration of the music of perhaps America’s signature rock n roll band. We are lucky to have him. (setlist here)
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