Brian Wilson-- Imagination

(Giant 24173)

"Brian is Back."

Wouldn't it be nice really to have the same Brian Wilson showcased so finely on last year's Pet Sounds Sessions box actually, really, fully "BACK."

BACK to conjure up ornate studio melodies bathed in otherworldly vocal harmonies, punctuated by break-your-heart basslines and to-die-for chord changes. Being as his legendary Beach Boys sound has been fetishized so romantically by new style popsters as disparate as Fastball, the High Llamas and Cornelius Fantasma, it would only be fitting to have the original article back on the scene.

And with a private life behind him now that could best be described as bizarre, and with the brainwashing psychiatrist that guided his life (and stole songwriting credits and royalties!) for close to a decade out of the picture, Wilson is now said to be "BACK" once again. Like he's been "BACK" many times before. No less than two authorative music mags claim that this new Imagination is Brian's best stuff since the Boys' 1970 classic, Sunflower.

And if you define peace of mind as being "BACK," yes it looks as though Brian has finally found some domestic peace. Ensconced in Illinois with a new wife and a new life in the Chicago suburbs, he's built a home studio and released this first album of new songs in 11 years, and on a label that looks like its willing to push it, and with a "contemporary" co-producer (Joe Thomas) to teach him the ropes of the new studiology. For Beach Boys fans, like the guys from those magazines and me and probably you, the idea of Brian Wilson at work in a home studio, with a supportive structure behind him-- a thousand miles from the meddling of Mike Love and Eugene Landy -- sends goosebumps! This is a Beach Boys fan's dream scenario. . .

(And just think this architect of the California Dream had to move away from the West Coast to finally live out his dream. Weird, man).

But while previous Brian comebacks, like the Beach Boys Love You (an eccentric 1976 offering produced while Wilson grappled with his drug addictions) at least displayed Wilson's cracked sense of humor and his signature style, Imagination is utterly fake made for the Mall, all buttons pushed and all surprises telegraphed. In other words Celine Dion country. Filled with annoying '90's drum and keyboard sounds, this is nothing but upscale crapola; positively reeking of good feelings good timin' but take away the "oooo-oooohs" and "dip-dip-dip," and much of this could be Jimmy Buffett's new solo album.

(Oh yes, Buffett guest-stars here. . . and J.D. Souther. . . and Carol Bayer Sager!. Hey, do these hired hands denote 'imagination' in today's boomer music hierarchy? Say what you will Lindsey Buckingham and Jeff Lynne were inspirational co-collaborators a decade ago compared to this hackish lot-- people who neither add to Wilson's vision or complement it; hardly inspirational when you consider that Brian Wilson's music-world fans include modern-rock musicians as far-ranging as John Cale, Thurston Moore, Frank Black and Andy Partridge. Not to mention Brian pal / fan Paul McCartney, who could always use a good collaborator.)

In contrast to Imagination's hype, our hero's last effort, the Landy-run, universally-ignored Brian Wilson "comeback" (1988) whoever REALLY wrote those songs contained scattered moments of brilliance adventurous and lovely cuts that updated Brian's impeccable vocal arranging and avant-garde montage techniques ("Melt Away" and "Rio Grande" are as good as anything in his canon). By contrast, Imagination sounds like something any ol' complaint and successful middle-aged songwriter would demo in the suburbs of Chicago (albeit with the real Brian Wilson singing the background vocals); the kind of album that same songwriter would release if Irving Azoff (Giant label head and Buffett manager. Small world!!) was calling the shots. And he quite obviously is.

Encased in a world of "tasty licks," and bizzer hand-outs, Imagination contains but drips and drops of Wilson's skills as a sound innovator, and never on the songs that could benefit most from it. The exquisite "She Says She Needs Me," a complex and moving "Don't Talk"-like mediation on love is crippled by a too loud mix, while the exuberant melody and potential rave-up of "South American" (blocking out Buffett's inane lines about such things as Cameron Diaz that instantly date it) never materializes the sound just doesn't go crazy where it probably should. These tracks may offer proof that Wilson's power as a composer hasn't left him, but the goodies are few and far between.

When you consider that High Llamas leader Sean O'Hagan was interested in producing a Beach Boys album with Brian, the mind boggles at what would've happened to potentially winning songs like "Lay Down Burden," another heartfelt ballad with a great, downcast Wilson melody. For one thing, real woodwinds and cellos would've been used if O'Hagan had been on board; instead, with a few exceptions, this CD treats listeners to tinky, cheesy electronic approximations of same. It doesn't help that for every "Lay Down Burden" or "She Says That She Needs Me" there's a dreck-ish piece of fodder like "Come On Sunshine" tunes that show that, yes, Brian Wilson can actually write and produce tracks WORSE than "Kokomo" if he tries (or doesn't try).

I'm sorry-- I'm rooting for him, too-- but anyone who thinks this is Brian Wilson's best since Sunflower wants to believe Brian is "BACK" again, again, a whole awful lot. Happy he may very well be, and that's good news for a change; creatively, Brian Wilson has never been as far away as this.

---Don Harrison