“Smile: The Rise, Fall & Resurrection of Brian Wilson”

There are very few musicians Paul McCartney would consider his equal, let alone his artistic superior, but in his heyday, Brian Wilson was one such exception. He employed all sorts of chords and creative devices to complete his art, culminating in such dazzling symphonic pop ballads as “God Only Knows” and “You Still Believe In Me.” McCartney wasn’t the only one blown away by Wilson’s abilities; Bob Dylan was another fan. “Jesus, that ear,” Dylan remarked. “He should donate it to the Smithsonian.”

All high praise indeed, and David Leaf makes no effort to suppress his inner fan regarding the songwriting bassist. Leaf’s  Smile: The Rise, Fall & Resurrection of Brian Wilson peers at the artist from all angles, and although the work stems from a place of admiration and love, the author doesn’t hold back any punches, especially in the chapters regarding mental health. Carl Wilson had to watch with sadness at his brother’s decline during the recording of Smile, describing the compromised alternative Smiley Smile as a “bunt instead of a grand slam.”

Curiously, Leaf avoids casting therapist Eugene Landy as the ogre Paul Giamatti characterised him as in 2014’s mediocre film Love & Mercy. Recognizing that it would have been “a kinder experience for Brian” had someone else led him through recovery, the writer highlights the psychologist’s ability to mend the musician to the point he could be “publicly presentable as a Beach Boy.” By returning to the spotlight, Wilson returned to his place as a popsmith of high repute; 1988’s jaunty “Rio Grande” captured the weirdness of 1967’s single “Heroes & Villains” almost perfectly.

Wilson reunited with Van Dyke Parks for the achingly beautiful Orange Crate Art, a record dotted with the singer’s spectral vocals. And despite his reticence – Wilson compared resurrecting the album to the Titanic – the composer issued Brian Wilson Presents Smile in 2004, completing a journey decades in the making. It was well received: Rolling Stone magazine listed it fourth in their year-end poll.

Occasionally, Leaf overdoes it with the superlatives (Wilson’s music is both “indescribably beautiful” and “otherworldly”), but the passion is infectious to read, as is the research. Peter Carlin points out that it is not difficult to “romanticize a record that doesn’t exist,” as it would combine all the flavors and flair of many iterations of a band. Irish guitarist Sean O’Hagan pens an affectionate story that features during the closing section of Smile: The Rise, Fall & Resurrection of Brian Wilson. Witnessing Wilson’s performance of the mythological album live on stage, O’Hagan felt transported to an ebullient place. ” I left the theatre a happier person,” O’Hagan writes, no doubt grinning as he did so.

Like he did for Landy, Leaf makes a commendable case for Mike Love, the irascible frontman disliked in some quarters of Beach Boy lore. Love resisted some of the lyrical changes Wilson presented to the band during the 1960s, which was fair considering that their oeuvre consisted of tunes about surfing and summer vibes. In 1995, guitarist Carl Wilson suggested that Love found the new work “airy-fairy” and “abstract,” but Brian Wilson fans will likely say that’s the reason why Smile, Smiley Smile, or Brian Wilson Presents Smile is such a triumph. Sadly, Love tried to bring Wilson to court in the 21st century; ultimately, this suit was dismissed in 2007 as there were “no triable issues of material fact.”

Leaf himself spends very little time or word count on the court case, encouraging readers to visit the Billboard website for more information. The work, the writer concedes, is supposed to be “joyous and celebratory.” Fundamentally, that is what united The Beatles and The Beach Boys. They were bands that knew of a world war that dominated their childhood, but both groups opted to look at the optimism in life. People should love, cheer, and clap. They should also… smile.

-Eoghan Lyng

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