Decades worth of effort from Brian Wilson and the rest of The Beach Boys eventually saw Smile release. It is a passion project worth hearing from one of the all-time greats. Wilson compartmentalising the thoughts of his generation, those ideas which gave way to Pet Sounds and Surf’s Up, is a monumental treat and truly remarkable. These sessions are not just for the dedicated fans but for those wanting to make a start on The Beach Boys’ backlog of exceptional material. Smile was long-abandoned by Wilson until the turn of the century, and it was only revisited gradually, through live performances and later studio works. These alternate versions and compilation materials are masterful – an extension of an already fascinating project that could have defined Wilson as much as Pet Sounds had it seen the light of day.
But it did not, and all we can do now is reflect on what could have been. To take something as trivial as enjoying vegetables and turn it into a powerhouse pop-like riff is the work of a genius. With its barber shop-like feel through Our Prayer and Gee, the warmth that defined The Beach Boys’ early days is revived. Pinwheel-like whistles, the carnival at large and the boo-wop joys of Heroes and Villains greatly understand what Wilson was going for at the time, what took so long to piece together, and why it angered his bandmates. Tough love was needed at the time but not released until too late. This desire for a bright and youthful experience is capitulated, broken down by what should be the charming nursery rhymes of our earliest memories. But the likes of My Only Sunshine are haunting. Brilliant but disturbed pieces throughout this album linger as some of Wilson’s most interesting works.
Terrifying yet honest moments like this give an insight into how great a producer and artist Wilson is. His grasp of what makes a song click, how he can present it as the sound and buzz in his head, is bold each step. It is not just his conviction to those moments of pure horror but the sentimental value and tonal changes heard on follow-up track Cabin Essence. Each is a loud and booming romp through the fundamentals of The Beach Boys’ style in the 1960s, elevated and amplified by this anxiety-riddled instrumental addition. The Smile Sessions sound incomplete yet whole at once. Its wandering tones and sharp turns into different sounds are an ambitious reflection of Wilson, constantly pushing for boundary-pushing noise.
This is an earnest attempt at compiling what was left after Brian Wilson Presents Smile, with slight differences and additions to the track order, but nothing unsettling. Wilson was a frankly better musician than the rest of The Beach Boys and this caused fear and misrepresentation. No wonder The Smile Sessions took so long. But now the revisions have been made, hindsight is a beauty. Stunning pieces of work can be found in this – some of the band’s best-ever. Surf’s Up and the timeless Heroes and Villains are magical, beyond the pale. All is lost for now, Surf’s Up suggests. The Smile Sessions are more about reclaiming this lost land than anything else, a period of artistic confusion for the man at the heart of it finally ironed out. It is not perfect, but that is the beauty of this compilation.
A humanity to its cracks and few creases is an important piece of The Smile Sessions. This strong character, this grieving process heard throughout has a tremendous charm. Hunt down your frustrations and find them exorcised here. We can ride on Wilson’s back to figure out our messy selves because it is easier to follow a trodden path than to make our own. The Smile Sessions is a perfect awakening, an opportunity for reflection through the muddles of emotional maturity. Therein lies the great joy of an always-shifting instrumental tone. Beauties like I Wanna Be Around/Workshop may be incomplete but they hold all the heart and vigour of a finalised piece. Construction noise has never sounded so beautiful. It is a grating part of the early morning. Such is life across from a work site. But here it sounds methodical, comforting even.
The Smile Sessions has some dark and even frustrating moments but in this is a comfort which carries over into the spirited highs of Vega-Tables. It has the Short’Nin’ Bread sound to it, a folk classic Wilson played to stunned peers often. Considering how frequently the tone changes it is frankly incredible The Smile Sessions does not collapse under the weight of all its moving parts. Sinister sounds like The Elements: Fire (Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow) follow on the charming calm of Wind Chimes. Together it creates a complete experience, an emotional array quite unlike anything else. The Smile Sessions is a liberation of the soul, a deep and moving expression of honesty from one of the all-time greats which we can hijack for our shortcomings. A beautiful album with or without personal hangups attaching themselves to the likes of Love to Say Dada.
