Way before Glee, back in the 1960s the songwriting genius Brian
Wilson retreated from his new found fame as the Beach Boys' front
man and wrote a track called I just Wasnt Made For These Times. For
the first time the Californian band of young, sensitive surfer
dudes made the close harmonies beloved of earlier, preppy barber
shop groups sound cool.
I came across them in the 1980s when a musician in a rock band I
admired (The Hollow Men, if you must) told me that the Beach Boys
would get his vote as the best band in the world ever. I was
speechless. And deeply suspicious. All that goofy-sounding,
high-pitched man-singing was like fingernails on a chalk board to
me at the time. But years later, when I'd got over my indie kid
hatred of anything not shoe-gazery and liked by only 200 people in
the entire country, I realised that they were worth some serious
reconsideration. Yes, the songs like Good Vibrations and Sloop John
B were completely beyond my personal experience, no I couldn't
relate to the cheery, catchy, breezy tunes but once I'd looked
beyond the chart hits, to the sheer joy that is Pet Sounds
(complete with barking dogs and other farm livestock) I found the
sweet, tender heartache I was yearning for.
Fast forward to September 2011 and Brian Wilson is in his
hometown of choice, London, limping through a the Gershwin
standards. Please be advised; I say limping in the most respectful
of ways. Gershwin Just Wasnt Made for the Beach Boy's World. More
grand dad than dad rock. The Gershwin numbers felt as though they
needed the energy that he and his 14-piece band clearly have in
spades and which is far better channelled through the BB
songbook.
In fact as soon as the second half of the gig starts, a few fans
start to stand up in their seats - the closest you'll get to a riot
in the Royal Festival Hall - and its not long before the entire
auditorium is on its feet, dancing and simulating helicopter arms
to the classics: Californian Girls and Surfer Girl (written when
the septugenarian was just 19 years old). We hear sweet 1950s
inspired guitar riffs and then Brian invites us to sing Mary Had a
Little Lamb. We try, but we're no show choir. Brian's not
impressed. "Boy, and they said I couldn't play piano any
more!".
So he gives up, the tempo slows down again and we sit and watch
the percussionist Nelson Bragg who has a long shoulder-length 'do'
that rivals the roof of Bangkok's Wat Po temple. Could it be the
9th wonder of the world? Brian and his band are rocking out now to
tracks like Wouldn't It Be Nice, Jonny B Goode and Help Me Rhonda.
We end with a glorious medley of God Only Knows (which took him a
mere 45 mins to write) Surfin' USA and a newer track from Smile:
Heroes and villains which demonstrates the vocal dexterity of his
latest band incarnation. It's surreal and gorgeous and all a bit
Edward Lear. I'm blown away and Brian gets a standing ovation. Job
done.
