989 BRIAN WILSON PRESENTS “PET SOUNDS”, Cardiff St. David’s Hall, Wednesday 18th May 2016

My fancifully-named “Month Of Legends” continues, with a massive name; and my attendance at this one is actually really down to David Bowie. After he’d released “Blackstar” at the start of this year, his second album in 3 years after a decade-long hiatus, I was convinced the next step would be a Summer Bowie tour. Little did I know that “Blackstar” was to prove his epitaph, and days later he was gone... This to me underlined the necessity (if such delineation was really needed) to seize the day and take advantage of our stars, our icons, while we still have them; so when I (belatedly) heard that 60’s legend Brian Wilson had announced a (possibly final) tour to celebrate the 50^th anniversary of the Beach Boy’s seminal work, “Pet Sounds”, I moved quickly, securing a balcony ticket in Cardiff before they (allegedly) sold out, tix for the Bristol date having long since gone. 1966’s “Pet Sounds” was, and remains, a vital cornerstone in the pantheon of modern music, an envelope-pushing, iconic album whose influence cannot be overstated or adequately quantified, resonating down the years in the works of anyone – literally, anyone – who rejoices in melody, harmony and sonic experimentation. Nuff said.

 

So an unexpectedly sunny Wednesday afternoon saw me head off early, jump into the “traffic event horizon” (thanks, Dave Franklin...) that is the static M4 around Newport, but make good time thereafter, parking up on the North Road car park into the city centre (free after 6! Yay!) and taking a convivial wander in under a leafy canopy. Whiled away some time tracking down Spillers Records’ new location, then circumnavigated the maze of escalators and staircases that comprise the St. David’s Hall atrium. I’m up in the gods on Level 5, me... Took a seat on the way up and surveyed my fellow gig-goers – not yer usual crowd tonight; these were mainly older couples dolled up to the nines for an “event” night out; at 50 I felt positively youthful!

 

Eventually took my seat in the auditorium, a lofty extreme right seat overlooking the almost orchestral set-up onstage. Banks of keyboards and an extensive percussive section. A whole lot of people onstage tonight, I thought, and such was the case, as the black-clad monolith that is Brian Wilson led an 11-piece band onstage to a rapturous reception, taking his seat behind a similarly ebony-coloured piano. “We love this city and this crowd; you’re very receptive to Americans!” he announced in his halting, slightly slurred voice, before informing us of the running order; “some Beach Boys songs, then we’ll come back out and do the “Pet Sounds” album...”

 

So the “first act” therefore consisted of a scattergun run through of early Beach Boys material, ranging from the rather gorgeous harmonic vocal interplay of a widescreen, opening “Heroes And Villains”, through the unmistakeable rhythmic keyboard refrain of the sunkissed “California Girls”, to the chugging old school rock’n’roll of “I Get Around”, via the dappled lightshow of a lovely “In My Room”, the highlight of this first set. Wilson’s vocals actually held up pretty well at this point, and he seemed in finer fettle than my only previous encounter, on the “Smile” tour back in 2004; however there were occasions that he sounded like he is; a 70-something man in fragile health, with a history of mental health and drug addiction issues, a man who, frankly, we’re still lucky to have with us. However for me this was entirely understandable and to be expected, and let’s face it, he’s Brian fucking Wilson, right? He’s got absolutely nothing to prove to me, or anyone else! Also, on these odd occasions that the voice faltered, his splendid virtuoso band were able to mask this with a tumbling tide of vocal harmonies, or, in the case of superb falsetto backing vocalist Matt Jardine (possibly my MVP of the performance), seamlessly pick up the lead vocal line for the higher octaves. Matt’s dad, the flaxen-haired original Beach Boy Al, also took lead vocals for the early surfer boy classics, giving Brian a rest and still sounding surprisingly youthful himself, despite being of similar vintage to his bandleader (73 years old, the pair of ‘em...). Occasional Beach Boy and Rolling Stone touring band member Blondie Chapman, a wiry, strutting figure, also took lead vocals on a couple of funkier, Motown-tinged numbers to end this opening set; they didn’t really float my boat, but I knew the best was yet to come...

 

A short intermission (during which I wandered to the front of my balcony and made friends with the soundman below – more on that later...), then the band were back on for “Pet Sounds”, Matt Jardine taking the lead for “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” and propping Brian’s lead up noticeably on the lush, plangent “You Still Believe In Me”, before a lovely flute- and pounding drum-driven “Waiting For The Day”. Again, excellent lighting accompanied the quite brilliant “Sloop John B” – this time spinning broken discs embellishing each band member as Al Jardine sung this all-time classic. “That was the end of side one of “Pet Sounds”, and here’s side two,” announced Brian, and we knew what was coming next...

 

The unmistakeable and utterly magical keyboard and horn opening interplay introduced a reverentially-played and all-too-short “God Only Knows”, one of the greatest songs EVER written, the perpetual round harmony overlay of the outro in particular bringing a lump to the throat, and the longest cheer of the night at its’ conclusion, prompting Brian to remark, “I knew you’d like that one!” Inevitably, the set thereafter seemed anticlimactic, although the poignant “I Wasn’t Made For These Times”, Brian manfully ploughing through the lead vocal with Matt again propping him up, and the discordant, haunting riffery of the instrumental “Pet Sounds” were highlights. As the elegiac “Caroline No” brought the set to a close, Brian shuffled offstage, helped by a minder/ roadie as the taped background train noise rumbled on...

 

For encores, flautist Paul Mertens introduced the band back onstage for the inevitable and rather wonderful “Good Vibrations”, which for me should have ended the evening there and then, a medley of further surfer boy classics punctuated by “Fun Fun Fun” seeming unnecessary. To bring the evening to a close, Brian chose the more recent (if you can call 1988 “recent”) ballad “Love And Mercy”, saving up a good vocal performance for this, clearly a meaningful song for him. The entire band took a bow thereafter, following a 2 hour + onstage performance that although a little over-populated, never disappointed, and occasionally stroked the hem of genius. That wasn’t it, though...

 

I wandered back down to the front of the balcony, being handed a set-list by my friend the soundman; then managed to stop Al Jardine on his way offstage and get him to sign my list. At least, partially... my pen ran out partway through, Jardine handing the list back up to me with the instruction, “go over it yourself!” I also bothered son Matt for a quick word and signature, remarking, “what a wonderful show!” Because it was. A quick walk back to the car and journey home saw me back by 20 past 12, reflecting on a gig finally worth my “Month Of Legends” epithet. Thank you Brian, thanks Matt and Al... and thank you David. If only you were still here too...