Former Beach Boy Brian Wilson delivers 'That Lucky Old Sun'
The album reflects his 66 years.
COULD there be a more intimidating musical task than the one Brian Wilson took on five years ago when he decided to resurrect his storied masterwork “Smile,” the long-abandoned Beach Boys project that had plunged him into an abyss of psychological torment?
Well, how about completing "Smile" to widespread acclaim, only to find himself face to face with perhaps an even more daunting challenge: "What next?"
Wilson's answer arrives Tuesday with “That Lucky Old Sun,” the next step in the unlikely return of the musician whose life virtually created the blueprint for the rock 'n' roll prodigy cum flameout.
The new album is another song cycle, a loosely thematic work that examines and revels in life in Southern California. It celebrates a culture that Wilson helped define in the 1960s with his ebullient songs of surfer girls, sandy beaches and endless good vibrations.
"Smile" was perhaps the most ardently debated "lost" album in pop music history before Wilson revived it; by comparison, "That Lucky Old Sun" arrives with no history and infinitely fewer expectations. That made it more fun to create for the 66-year-old sole surviving Wilson brother -- Dennis, the band's true beach boy, drowned in 1983. Sweet-voiced Carl died in 1998 of cancer.
"This is more of a pop album than 'Smile' was," says Wilson, striding the perimeter of a neighborhood park in L.A. He launches an impromptu a cappella rendering of the album's "Morning Beat":
The sun burns a hole through the 6 a.m. haze
Turns up the volume and shows off its rays
Another Dodger blue sky is crowning L.A.
The City of Angels is blessed every day
"That's a good rock 'n' roll song!" he proclaims. "I don't know how well it will sell, but I hope people will like it."
After completing three miles around the park -- he'd already logged two that morning -- he steps back into his sporty 2006 Mercedes coupe and tools up the steeply winding roads leading to his favorite deli, not far from the hilltop home where he and his wife, Melinda, have lived for 13 years.
He snaps on the car radio periodically, usually for just a second or two, long enough for him to identify whatever song is playing. It's tuned to oldies station KRTH-FM (101.1), and when Stevie Wonder's "If You Really Love Me" bursts from the speakers, he keeps it on. Then, serendipitously, comes the first song Brian Wilson ever wrote, "Surfer Girl." He listens but doesn't utter a word.
