Too much fun
Smile! It's Brian Wilson's world – you're just listening to it.

By Kimberly Chun

TALKING TO BRIAN Wilson is a bit like chatting up an old-school pro athlete. The 62-year-old Beach Boys brain has been around the block long enough to oblige the press, but he'd obviously much rather be left alone to do his job. Yes, he falls into rote patterns, gets caught up in catchphrases, and reaches for canned answers. But sometimes even the most innocuous questions about his legendary unreleased album, Smile (Nonesuch), can bring unforced weirdness to the surface. The kind of strangeness that makes you realize Wilson is operating in a completely different universe.

Bay Guardian: [Absently wondering what I'll have for dinner] So ... how's the tour been going?

Brian Wilson: [Abruptly effusive] Awww, it's great! Everywhere we go it's fantastic! The shows are great! My energy has tripled since the last tour, and we're getting better standing ovations! The band is getting really good at it! It's kind of scary!

You should see the show. It's a little scary. You'll be a little scared. But it's worth it.

BG: [Giggling nervously] Why scared?

BW: [Dead serious and speaking as if to a particularly dim child] Well, because it's a scary album. It's very, very, very good music. Not that that's to scare people. But it's just a good album. It's very good music to present to pee-pull.

BG: [Genuinely curious] But was it meant to scare people?

BW: [Alarmed but eager to quell fears] Oh, no, no, no! No! It wasn't.

BG: [Realization dawning] It's intense –

BW: [Just here to help] Well, it's so involved and so segmented that it's a very, very, very good album to hear.

For some reason, probably because I grew up in Honolulu with a constant stream of Beach Boys hits seemingly pouring out of nearby speakers in every cranny of wiki-wacky Waikiki, I think I know what he means by "scary." At one point, the Beach Boys were everywhere, unavoidable, and I hated their goody-two-shoes harmonies, pristine sound, and clean-cut looks. You had to gag, being force-fed all that family "goodness."

I had no problem with authentic beach boys – my bronzed, cut uncle strutted his stuff as a lifeguard at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel – but those Cali dudes just reminded me of my high school's pampered, self-absorbed, and sun-blasted surfers, the so-called golden gods who seemed to look down on the brown people all around them, despite the fact that their identity depended so heavily on the sport of Hawaiian kings.

Hell, even Wilson was damaged by the Beach Boys.

BG: [Probing obliviously] Do you miss working with the Beach Boys or wish you could play Smile with them?

BW: [Matter-of-factly] Well, the Beach Boys, I think, want to come over to my trip. Mike Love and Al Jardine and Bruce Johnston – but we don't want 'em, and we don't want to open the door and let 'em in!

Because we like what we're doing. They want to get involved now that they've seen and heard Smile.

BG: [Poking heedlessly] What do you think about that?

BW: [Stuttering matter-of-factly] I don't want ... I-I-I don't, I don't know. I hope I don't see Mike Love ever again, but I don't know.

Fried on "Fun, Fun, Fun" at a tender age, I had to grow to love the Beach Boys. Why were they considered music for kids, removed from the context of the Four Freshmen and Hi-Lo's? I learned to appreciate the intricate harmonies, the glorious arrangements, and blissfully naive outlook. Now it's hard to imagine the time I once cringed at the sound of the opening, sublime three-syllabic sigh of "Good Vibrations." Even now, only the ingeniously interwoven themes of the newly recorded, beautifully sequenced Smile can truly rub out the imprint of those nonstop Sunkist soda commercials.

BG: [Feeling totally out of it] How does it feel to have a younger generation discover the music and appreciate a challenging work like Smile?

BW: I think the young people are really going to go for this new album. I think they're going to love it a lot.

BG: Looking back now, do you believe there are new reasons why Smile was held?

BW: [Adamant] No, we put it on the shelf for 38 years because we figured we were way ahead of our time. It was too advanced for the market.

About nine months ago, my wife said to me, "Brian I think the world is finally ready for Smile. And I said, "I agree with you," and so I taught my band and my orchestra and we have 19 pieces now. I taught them Smile, and we went over to London; it went over fantastic. I think the young people are finally ready for something more positive.

BG: Has revisiting the record made you want to do similar music in future?

BW: [Confidently] What we want to do, if and when we get the time next year, early next year or January, would be to make a rock album. We've written a handful of songs already. It's way, way more rock 'n' roll than Smile. Smile isn't a rock 'n' roll album. Smile is a pop album.

BG: So what kind of rock albums do you admire nowadays?

BW: I admire Phil Spector's Christmas album. I still admire Let It Be, by the Beatles. Y'know, that kind of stuff.

BG: What are you listening to now?

BW: Mostly Phil Spector.

BG: [Wondering if Wilson pays attention to the news] Uh, have you talked to him lately?

BW: No, no. I don't. I haven't talked to him in 20 years.

BG: What's relevant about his music today?

BW: Well, I think his music still has a good beat, and it still has a good "wall of sound," as they call it. And you young kids will probably go for that kind of thing.

Call Wilson a man in a bubble, the genius time forgot – just don't call him late to Davies Symphony Hall for the last performance on this tour of his "very personal, happy symphony to God."

BG: What's next for you, besides the rock album?

BW: I'm planning on moving to a new house. It's so big – it's, like, 15,000 square feet. [Chuckles] Really big house, yeah. Has an elevator in it and a basement where we're going to build a recording studio. Ah, it's fantastic.

BG: I can't believe you don't have a recording studio in your house now.

BW: No, no.

BG: That's perfect for you.

BW: Ah, I know. It would be. Wouldn't that be great?!

No, no, wouldn't it be nice?

Brian Wilson performs Thurs/4, 8 p.m., Davies Symphony Hall, 201 Van Ness, S.F. $45.50-$65.50. (415) 421-TIXS.

The documentary Beautiful Dreamer: Brian Wilson and the Story of Smile premieres Fri/5 on Showtime. For more information go to www.sho.com.