Brian Wilson
Smile

It is not often that a pop record begins with the sound of a cathedral choir. ‘Our Prayer/Gee’ signifies the start. Lost and wallowing, the voices – complete with pitch-perfect Beach Boy harmony lines – are precise and caressing. It is a fittingly grand opening and provides the perfect layering for the kaleidoscopic whirlwind of ‘Heroes and Villains’. The circus tent motive still feels out of place, yet somehow you sense the whole song would collapse without this melody’s steadying repetition – and although it is a spruced up version of the track that is available on 'Smiley Smile', the invention is still outstanding. There’s so much going on in this song, that at times it's difficult to take it all in. Incidentally, the sound is wonderful. Perhaps the main worry surrounding this release, was whether Wilson would veer too far away from the original sound of the early tapes – ProTools anyone? It is this correspondent’s delight to report that alongside the brilliant direction of Darian Sahanaja, the man has been meticulous in his production. Some fanatics may suggest that the sacred, tinny bleed from the 60s sessions has been lost and subsequently replaced by a warm overglow - and they'd be right. Yet this is far from a negative facet. As the ’Smile’ horizon unfolds and we reach the gorgeous ’Cabin Essence’, the transition between the plucking ukulele led verse and the whirling harmonies of the chorus is glorious – those unmistakable Wilson arrangements flying around, escaping the speakers - free and uplifting.

‘Wonderful’ is enchanting. The beginning of ’Smile’s second suite is an ethereal work of melodic genius. Much has been made of Wilson’s voice falling short of the mark - supposedly corroded by years of manic depression, drug use and general lunacy. ’Wonderful’ – and later ’Wind Chimes’ - are concrete affirmations that the man behind the myth has still ‘got it’. Although wavering at times, Wilson’s vocals are surprisingly solid, heartfelt and joyous. Wading through the sunny depths of ‘Song For Children’ and ‘Children is Father of The Man’_, you begin to realise exactly what this man was dealing with all those years ago. His arrangements intertwine at such pace and complexity, it’s a wonder Wilson didn’t rip his head of in frustration and confusion – exactly how does one contain this sort of creation, let alone share it with the rest of the world? ‘Surf’s Up’ is an utterly mesmerising conclusion to a middle section of heart wrenching beauty: “Hung velvet overtaking me / Dim Chandelier awaken me / To a song dissolved in the dawn”.