Brian Wilson
Sun Aug 28, Paramount,
8 pm, $43.50–$63.

On the surface, the Beach Boys seemed to personify sunny California vibes, rolling surf, tanned babes, and hot rods. But the true tale of the band and its enigmatic creative force, Brian Wilson, is one of immense depravity: acid freakouts, cocaine binges, an abusive domineering father figure, paranoid schizophrenia, endless lawsuits, and even pissing off Elvis.

The majority of the Beach Boys' troubles are often blamed on Murray Wilson, father of three of the Beach Boys, brothers Brian, Dennis, and Carl. A songwriter and later the manager, publicist, and original producer of the band, Murray has always been portrayed as wildly unstable. Among numerous stories of his father's cruelty, Brian once related that Murray forced him, when he was a small child, to defecate on a newspaper in front of the family.

Despite all of their achievements, the Wilson boys were never able to outrun the demons that their father foisted upon them. Author Keith Badman relays in the book The Beach Boys that Carl was a cocaine addict and alcoholic and that Dennis, also a cokehead, palled around with Charles Manson. But no Beach Boy had it quite as bad as Brian, who completely unraveled when he was at the pinnacle of his creative talents.

Not able to handle the Beach Boys' success, Brian began to hear voices in his head, was eventually ousted from the band, spent approximately three years at home partaking in a wide assortment of drugs and food (at one point, he weighed 340 pounds), had his wife and children abandon him, and eventually landed in several mental institutions.

Brian's greatest works, Pet Sounds and Smile, were not just the result of his vast imagination, but of his desire to outdo the other key musicians of his age.

When Brian met one of his heroes and adversaries, Elvis Presley, in a recording studio in 1969, he saw him as a rival. Surfermoon.com reports that he greeted Elvis jokingly (having heard that he was into martial arts) with pulled punches and karate chops, rather than shaking his hand. Although Elvis told him to knock it off, Brian tried some kicks on the King who responded, "I told you not to do that" and quickly exited the studio.

Another obsession and nemesis for Brian were the Beatles, whose Rubber Soul was the impetus for Pet Sounds. He has said that he hoped to surpass the Beatles' work and was mortified when Pet Sounds was only a small hit upon its release.

As with many of the preeminent musicians of this period, drugs certainly had some positive influence on Brian's art. The Beach Boys' music wasn't quite trippy, but some of the structure, texture, and childlike themes on Smile were inspired by Brian's heavy acid intake. However, Brian was already psychologically ravaged and so was no match for powerful hallucinogens.

Badman writes that after viewing the Rock Hudson film Seconds, Brian was convinced that the opening line "Good morning, Mr. Wilson" and the rest of the film was about him. Brian was forced to quit touring with the Beach Boys because he feared devils were out to get him. He was also adamant that Phil Spector wanted to kill him (maybe he was correct about that).

But it wasn't just inner demons that conspired to drive Brian bananas; he had real external forces shitting upon him, too. His record company, Capitol, his father, and fellow Beach Boy and cousin Mike Love all helped kill the release of the majestic and inventive Smile for reasons of commercialism and bad taste.

With harmonies as angelic and Beach Boys–like as the band's most classic works, had Brian's 2004 recording of Smile been released and completed in the '60s, it would have been a daring, innovative follow-up to Pet Sounds. Beyond the allure of a record that has languished so long without being heard as its creator intended it to be, Smile manages to truly live up to its myth with several goosebump-raising sections.

Along with a definitive new take on "Good Vibrations" and the Beach Boys hit "Heroes and Villains," never before heard lyrics from Brian's collaborator Van Dyke Parks are found on former instrumentals like "Barnyard" and "On a Holiday." Though they are not the Beach Boys of yesteryear, members of the Los Angeles pop band the Wondermints do a brilliant job of backing up Brian's now less-innocent sounding vocals. The complex arrangements make it seem more like a symphony than a pop album. Smile reflects the artful, somewhat drugged-out version of the Beach Boys, which is in many ways more appealing than the surfy boy-band side of the group.

The amazing thing about the Beach Boys' debauched story is its current happy ending with a rejuvenated Brian Wilson. May he remain sane and healthy.