The buzz started a year ago. We knew Brian Wilson was finally releasing “Smile,” the follow-up to “Pet Sounds” that he abandoned four decades years earlier after being jeered by record label executives and fellow Beach Boys alike.
But we knew the mysterious record was really good – epic, some were saying. Better than “Pet Sounds,” others proclaimed. An American milestone. Equal to the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s.”
Wilson’s masterpiece.
“Smile” was released to unanimously positive reviews. And when the legendary American pop composer had his say, he agreed in his typically staccato, broken speech.
“I know I got the best album ever,” Wilson told The Denver Post in October. “I got the No. 1 album.”
Now that the dust has settled – along with the hype and blinding afterglow – a question remains about this pop opera in three movements: Just where does “Smile” sit in the ranks of modern popular music?
The album’s creator certainly places it in the pantheon.
“I think it’s a masterpiece,” Wilson said last week from the road, working a “Smile” tour that stops at the Universal Lending Pavilion tonight. “I like this better than ‘Pet Sounds.’ It’s a better album than ‘Pet Sounds.’ It’s a happier, more uplifting album.”
Wilson said he is surprised at the continued response to the record in America, especially since he’s always doubted people’s ability to understand and embrace “Smile,” which he co-wrote with lyricist Van Dyke Parks.
“Americans seem to like ‘Smile’ more than I thought they would,” Wilson said. “I didn’t know what to expect, but apparently they like it. For the last two weeks, we’ve been getting good standing ovations for ‘Smile.’
“But the public would not have liked it at all when we wrote it. It was too advanced, and I don’t think they were ready.”
“Smile” is an astounding feat, a lush celebration of life expressed with Wilson’s characteristic beauty and rigor. But the composer’s claim that the public couldn’t have handled the LP is an overstatement.
Wilson & Co. ditched “Smile” in 1967. That was the year the Beatles – whom the Beach Boys had long engaged in an unofficial creative sparring match – released their defining work in the barrier-blasting “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.” (Itself considered an attempt to one-up the Beach Boys’ “Pet Sounds,” released in 1966.)
Music aficionados the world over embraced “Sgt. Pepper,” which was Paul McCartney’s prized creation. Praised for its musical diversity and breathtaking creativity, it remains a model of artistic ambition. It took the pop mold the Beatles helped forge and expanded it with curious, jangly orchestrations and seemingly infinite pop goodness.
Which is why it’s tough to believe Wilson’s claim that “‘Smile’ had nothing to do with ‘Sgt. Pepper.”‘ When Smile was finally released in September 2004, it was impossible to not recognize the similarities between it and “Sgt. Pepper” – not musically so much as in the projects’ shared scope, philosophy and self-awareness.
“Smile” knows exactly what it is, and while it was recorded last year when Wilson was 62, the pop opera was written when he was 24 – at the height of his game and before the nervous breakdown that ravaged him mentally and physically. Wilson in 1967 was Ali in 1966 or Einstein circa 1915 – fiery and unstoppable, thinking the unthinkable. If “Pet Sounds” is not enough evidence, listen to “Smile.”
“Smile” on record is a jubilant triumph, from the opening a cappella strands of “Our Prayer/ Gee” to the uncanny carnival-gone-wrong sirens of “Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow” and the bonus tracks that include “Good Vibrations.” After a year of steady listening and intense scrutiny, the record holds up like gold, like a champion, like “Pet Sounds.” The album bears repeated listenings: It doesn’t stop spreading pleasure or challenging the ears and mind.
When Wilson performed “Smile” in Denver last October, it was akin to a religious experience. The man isn’t much for performing, but he surrounded himself with a masterful orchestra, players who also are called upon to laugh, scream and chomp on carrots. The music they produced was top-notch and took the music’s childlike energy to interstellar levels.
Wilson means the music to be enjoyed in the purest sense. We closed the recent interview by talking about his future, and while there may not be another landmark work in the years to come, there will be more music. Asked if he had another “Smile” in his mind, he steered broadly around the question and said, “We just completed a Christmas album.
“We got eight traditional songs – ‘Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,’ ‘The First Noel,’ ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas’ and ‘It Came Upon a Midnight Clear’ – and we also did two original Brian Wilsons – ‘All I Really Want For Christmas’ and ‘Christmasey.’ It has a lot of feeling to it.”
Then this exchange.
Q: Why a Christmas album? And why now?
A: “My wife and I thought it would be a good idea to do, so we contacted Clive Davis and he helped us get some songs together. We both thought that it would sell records and make people happy.”
Q: You seem really concerned with happiness. Is that where you’re at right now in life?
A: “I just think people need love and happiness. It was time to grow musically. Growing musically makes me feel happier about my music.”
Q: But going back to “Smile,” do you think you have another one in you? Are you writing any more pop music?
A: “I’ve written some rock ‘n’ roll songs. We might do a rock ‘n’ roll album later this year. I’ve written about six songs, but I can’t describe it. They’re very different songs.”
Pop music critic Ricardo Baca can be reached at 303-820-1394 or rbaca@denverpost.com.
Brian Wilson
CHAMBER POP|Universal Lending Pavilion, in the south parking lot of the Pepsi Center; 7:30 tonight|$35-$200|through Ticketmaster, 303-830-8497 or ticketmaster.com.
