Much must be said about the state of mind Brian Wilson was in when he made his debut album. His first solo album came six years after he was fired from The Beach Boys, a decision which is as messy as the solo debut produced by the American psychologist and Wilson’s guardian at the time, Eugene Landy. Love and Theft, the Paul Dano and John Cusack movie depicting the Pet Sounds creation and Landy’s long-term influence and effect on Wilson, does a much better job than any review opening could offer. It is crucial to know the effect Landy had on Wilson and how much the innovative songwriter had wanted to work on projects like the Smile Sessions before listening to what is, still, a strong debut album. Irrespective of the consequence and condition Wilson was in at the time, he still had a thrilling, creative solidity that left his talent and skill in the studio intact. Songs which every dedicated fan of The Beach Boys will know, but paired with that late 1980s production style.
For some, this will be a rough listen, and to others will be a redefining moment from Wilson whose artistic style adapts well to the synth and pop expectations of the time. Love and Mercy is a real shock. Adjust to those instrumental stylings and the haunting backing vocals and it becomes a sincerely nice version of an all-time great track. It’s the writing which stands out most of all, and hearing Wilson perform the song for the opener of his self-titled solo debut is all sorts of fitting. It doesn’t forgive the hollow sound of the instrumentals, a mock-up of what The Beach Boys were doing as Wilson’s influence in the studio drifted, but nonetheless a nice effort with drum machines and harmonies clawing back to those best days. Where it may not wholly fit the Love and Mercy message, playful follow-up Walkin’ the Line is much more rounded.
It doesn’t hit as strongly as Wilson’s best work, but that’s because this is decades on. What it brings out is the lighter charm, the Shortenin’ Bread music-making Wilson would obsess over and perfect. For those who want that lighter touch, Brian Wilson is a great place to hear it. Melt Away and Baby Let Your Hair Grow Long are just as light and charming. They never quite feel like Wilson on his own, but then he was the core elements of The Beach Boys’ sound. No wonder his self-titled debut is so close to that feeling. Pop positivity only works when it’s genuine, and though trouble did not disappear for Wilson as he claims on Let it Shine, it’s hard not to fall for the idealism presented through these pop-friendly structures. It’s bright, cheerful, and hides the darker realities which came to light decades later.
Fundamentals of Wilson’s craft can be found here, but they’re occasionally overwhelmed by the production style of the times. Album closer Rio Grande highlights the best and worst of this first solo effort from Wilson. He sounds both free to create as he wishes but also confined to the structure of pop music at the time. Adapting to that is tricky but what comes off is a solid, enjoyable project with a few twists within. The haunting, latter half of Rio Grande is an immaculate example of what Wilson could do when tapping into that darker side to him, as he did on Pet Sounds. It can’t survive as a direct comparison – half a song is not the same as a full album – but the thunder of Rio Grande and the hopeful, lighter instrumentals which clear the clouds are a telling sign from Wilson, one of many littered throughout a respectable first solo album.
