Good Vibrations At The Brian Wilson Live Sets

Man, where do I begin when it comes to gushing about how awesome it was to see Brian Wilson perform at Live Sets in a 200-capacity private room?

I've been a Beach Boys fan since I was a wee little California girl, too young to really understand who the Beach Boys even were--I'm talking since back in my zygote days, when I thought "Good Vibrations" was a Sunkist jungle. And when I became old enough and music-obsessed enough to fully appreciate Brian's mad genius, I definitely became a flag-flying member of Team Brian (as opposed to Team Mike, of course--duh).

Considering Brian's long, troubled, mythological history since that Sunkist era and earlier--the self-imposed years of bedrest, the weird Eugene Landy co-dependence, the sandbox nonsense, the drug abuse, the wild weight fluctuations, the intermittent stagefright--I at one time assumed I'd never get the opportunity to see Brian perform, in any context. So the fact that now, in 2008, I was sitting in on a Brian Wilson dress rehearsal in a near-empty room in the middle of the afternoon...well, that was fun fun fun, indeed.

Of course, I have to admit that Brian didn't do a whole lot during the rehearsal. Disappointingly, during particularly awkward moments (and there were MANY awkward moments) I imagined it wouldn't have made much difference if a cardboard-cutout Brian Wilson replica had simply been propped up behind his centerstage keyboard--while his many bandmates (including mind-bogglingly talented members of L.A. powerpop combo the Wondermints) bustled around him, calling all the shots. But who cares if he just sat there, silent except for an occasional mention of himself in the third person ("Is Brian Wilson's trailer here?") or request for pomegranate juice, cookies, steak, and other foodstuffs? It was still BRIAN FREAKIN' WILSON up there. The man behind Pet Sounds. Behind Smile. Behind "Good Vibrations." Behind the best parody scene in Walk Hard. If the man wanted cookies and steak, so be it. He'd earned it.

So while his crack team of Wondermints and other enablers hovered around him, in-joking and gabbing like old pals, Brian stayed stonily silent, totally in his own world. But then he ran through "I Get Around," "Help Me Rhonda," "Good Vibrations," and "California Girls"--and the room collectively gasped, witnessing a legend of such stature was performing such classics only a few feet away. In the words of Live Sets producer Neal, it was "stunning and humbling." And I may have gasped the loudest--that is, when I wasn't sending emoticon-heavy, shamelessly gloating, perhaps not-all-that-humble texts to every single Brian fan in my cell phone's address book (or reading the capslocked replies I got back from these seethingly jealous friends).

After rehearsal, Brian retired to "Brian Wilson's trailer" for a bit, presumably to feast on some steak and cookies, then it was time for him to do some extremely awkward promo gruntwork before the actual show. Poor Brian was forced to rattle off various on-camera one-liners ("Hi, this is Yahoo! Music"-type stuff), and while he recited from the cue cards with all the inflection and emotion of one of those old 1980s Speak 'N' Spell electronic toys, hey--he did get through it. And that's saying something, considering the sorry shape he was in a decade or two ago. Of course, he had his music arranger and close collaborator Scott Bennett by his side the whole time, which probably helped.

The "blogger photo opp" was equally strained, as Live Sets co-producer Janda attempted to facilitate an introduction between me and Brian before our in-house photographer captured this momentous meeting on camera. "HI BRIAN, I'M LYNDSEY," I pretty much shouted (I was understandably excited), reaching out to shake the hand that presumably once waggled historically around that "Good Vibrations" theremin. Brian looked past me, or through me--but definitely not at me. He thrust his hand out somewhere in my general direction, but missed my overeager handshake by several feet. Then he stood by my side, cardboard-cutout-style, and stared blankly at the lens with an autopilot clenched-jawed smile. Meanwhile, I grinned like a total dorky maniac--or a maniacal dork, whichever you prefer. I was a little bummed I didn't get more interaction with him (maybe I should have pulled a sirloin out of my handbag), but whatever--now I can say I got to meet THE Brian Wilson. Bucket list complete!

So finally the show began. All sorts of L.A. hipsters and powerpop geeks, including veteran KROQ deejay/tastemaker/music freak Rodney Bingenheimer, were there for this very special event. And despite his woodenness earlier, the word on the set was that the often-temperamental Brian was in a fine mood this evening. The show began and his 20-member band marched single-file onto the stage, a procession so seemingly endless it kind of reminded me of one of those circus skits when 50 clowns get out of a tiny car. It was amazing how many people Brian needed onstage with him, but I suppose a big, big legend requires a big, big band. It takes a village, as the saying goes...

The first half of the concert consisted of all the old-timey Beach Boys hits that Brian played in rehearsal, and it was fantastic. If producer Neal hadn't demanded that audience members turn off their phones, I would have STILL been text-bragging to all my envious friends. But then it was fan-Q&A time. Uh-oh. After watching Brian struggle with those pre-show liners, I could only imagine how awkward it would be for him to sit there onstage and, in an unrehearsed yet hopefully coherent manner, answer megafans' queries in front of a packed live audience. That might be enough to send him right back to the sandbox, or to Eugene Landy.

To his credit and to my surprise/relief, Brian managed all right. He was clearly out of his comfort zone--if Brian Wilson even has a comfort zone, that is--and his answers were the most monotone and monosyllabic in Live Sets Q&A history. But he still imparted some nuggets of useful information. For instance, who knew that, of all the non-Wilson, non-"Be My Baby" songs he wished he'd written, Brian would pick the Doobie Brothers' "What A Fool Believes"? (Not a bad choice, just a surprising one.) He also mentioned that his favorite parts of his new album That Lucky Old Sun were the "35-second narrations by Van Dyke Parks" (good choice), and then, speaking of bad choices, when he was asked to name his biggest regret, he said, "All the drugs I took, because they kinda messed with my mind." Um, now that was awkward. I mean, the audience usually claps after every answer, but that particular response didn't seem to warrant thunderous applause--especially when Brian experienced a moment of uncharacteristic wordiness and began listing specific drugs like a line from Queens Of The Stone Age's "Feelgood Hit Of The Summer." But Brian's manager quickly swooped in and made it crystal-clear that this question/answer should NOT be included in the final Live Sets cut, so viewers at home have been spared such awkwardness.

Then it was back to the show, thankfully. The second act consisted entirely of new tunes, which could have been a letdown after all those old classics, but Brian had really loosened up by now, so his rumored good mood was clearly not just a rumor. He became unexpectedly animated, lifting his arms in V-formation to lead the crowd in singalongs, encouraging fans to yell and whoop it up, yodeling "Yahoo!" as if on cue, and engaging in actual between-song stage banter. (Cute adlib moment: "This is a song called 'Goin' Home'--which you'll all be doing soon!") It was obvious that he was thrilled to be playing his new material--much of which impressively stood up alongside his vintage hits--and it was wonderful to see him no longer in cardboard-cutout mode, but vivacious and cheerful and full of beans. Good vibrations filled the room.

An especially goosebumpy new-song moment--actually THE moment of the whole night--came when Brian warbled "Southern California," a ballad about "singing with my brothers." I got chills. And I still wished my cell phone was on--this time so I could light it up and wave it in the air during the gorgeous chorus.

Of course, the fans still couldn't get enough of the old material, so they were in luck: For technical-difficulty-related reasons, Brian needed to do retakes of "California Girls" and "I Get Around." And because he'd revved himself up considerably since the first half of the show, both performances were better the second time around.

Wow. What an amazing pocket symphony this intimate performance truly was.