The Best Version of "Smile"

I’ve been thinking about the ongoing debate over which version of Smile is best—The Beach Boys’ Smile Sessions or Brian Wilson’s 2004 Smile. I recently watched the 2-DVD set: https://www.discogs.com/release/3353665-Brian-Wilson-Smile My personal pick is now the live performance at Center Staging in Burbank, California, recorded on 26 September 2004 and featured on the second DVD. It arguably surpasses both studio recordings. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8UbNwhm2EX8 It might be one of the most “upgradable” live performances thanks to the visual component. When listening to densely complex music with multiple instruments and layered vocal parts, it’s easy to appreciate the overall sound while missing the intricate individual elements that comprise it. That’s one of the joys of great, complex music: the magic of repeat listening and “discovering” new parts you hadn’t consciously noticed before—even after hundreds of listens. But the Smile live performance on that DVD might be the greatest shortcut to appreciating such detail. You don’t need to listen hundreds of times to discover the intricacies of the work. The camera continually alternates between musicians, perfectly syncing with instrumental and vocal entries. When a new section begins, the camera cuts to whoever is contributing that part, helping the viewer become fully aware of the dense arrangements and harmonies. The DVD draws attention to every important moment that might otherwise pass by in a purely audio experience. You can even see the exact instrument—or sometimes inanimate object—creating a particular sound. It was an absolute joy to watch, and one of the most transformative visual experiences I’ve had in terms of deepening my appreciation for an album. Brian Wilson is also in top form throughout. I didn’t notice any obvious vocal flubs or tuning issues. It’s certainly a more polished vocal performance than when I’ve seen him live. And if there was overdubbing involved, I honestly don’t care—authenticity isn’t the point here; it’s about appreciating the brilliance of the music. I’m not sure if ripping the audio from the DVD would result in a version superior to the studio recordings, but as a complete audiovisual product, this is, in my opinion, the best way to experience Smile. I’ll also add that the first DVD—documenting the original unfinished album and the eventual resurrection of Smile leading up to the 2004 London concert—is deeply compelling. The stress of being rejected by his bandmates over the Smile project (and, I suspect, drug use) led to Brian Wilson’s first psychotic break, which caused the album to be abandoned and left unfinished. The resurrection of Smile was essentially Brian’s attempt to heal from that trauma. The film captures his PTSD-like struggles while compiling and rehearsing the material. There’s a particularly moving scene showing a vocal rehearsal where Brian sits in a dissociated state, while bandmates express concern about his disengagement. Later, he gradually finds the strength and focus to fully commit to rehearsals. The film also reveals that he experienced a return of depression with psychotic features, including command auditory hallucinations instructing him to harm himself. He also had an ED presentation due to a panic attack. His wife and the band were seriously concerned about whether his mental health could withstand the process. Leading up to the concert, Brian was reportedly calling people anxiously, fearing the performance would fail. In a bonus interview, he describes panicking 30 minutes before going on stage and wanting to cancel—but then using meditation to get through the moment and perform. The documentary ends with a triumphant performance, and Brian reflects that, through it, he was finally able to lay his demons to rest. I have to say—it was a deeply inspiring watch.

RIP Brian Wilson

RIP Brian Wilson The Beach Boys aren’t just one of my all-time favourite rock groups. The story of Brian Wilson, along with those of other musicians and composers who have struggled with mental illness, is part of the reason I chose the occupation I’m in today. I had the pleasure of seeing Brian Wilson perform twice: first with the Beach Boys’ 50th Anniversary Reunion Tour in 2012, and then on his solo Pet Sounds 50th Anniversary Tour in 2016, where he was joined by Al Jardine and Blondie Chaplin. I remember seeing Brian Wilson shuffling on stage with a parkinsonian gait, masked facies, and clear signs of tardive dyskinesia (involuntary mouth movements). It was apparent that he had endured significant exposure to antipsychotic medications over his lifetime. Brian was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, and his mental health struggles have been well documented. The film Love & Mercy vividly depicts his psychotic break during the 1960s and the subsequent exploitation he suffered under psychologist Eugene Landy. Landy exercised abusive control over Brian’s life for years, including administering excessive doses of antipsychotic medications as part of his manipulation made the sight of witnessing the physical lasting consequences of his abuse he receive quite emotionally moving. The celebration of Brian Wilson’s performances during those concerts was never really about his vocal performance, which had significantly deteriorated, with his bandmates and supporting vocalists carrying much of the musical load. Rather, it was the fact that he was still performing at all — after everything he had endured — that made it so inspiring. His resilience, recovery from severe mental illness, and ability to perform in his later years is what moved audiences far more than any technical musical quality. He wrote some of the most beautiful, uplifting, and optimistic music — music that often felt too beautiful for this world, and perhaps for his own life experiences. But the song I want to highlight is Til I Die, which Brian has said he wrote while feeling deeply depressed and preoccupied with death. In the song, he laments his insignificance and powerlessness: he is "the cork on the ocean," "the rock in a landslide," "the leaf on a windy day." He asks, “How deep is the ocean? How deep is the valley?” — implying that the depths of his depression could feel endless. The resignation in the line, “These things I’ll be until I die,” reflects the hopelessness he felt at the time — the fear that the darkness might never lift. That Brian was ultimately able to recover, find happiness in marriage, complete the once-lost Smile album, and return to touring and performing is what makes his story and watching him perform live so profoundly inspiring. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=46IQu0yuJzU