:mattLandia:

I was birthed, musically speaking, in front of an old stereo on the living room carpet of a two story house in Montevideo, Uruguay. Headphones vacuum pressed to the side of my head; the coiled umbilical cord from ear drum to stereo output; the light industrial sound "crrkkpllnkk" of the needle dropping to vinyl. It was there, in a Uruguayan dusk, where the waterfall of Brian Wilson's harmony washed over me and launched a thousand dreams of stardom.

His was my first love. I this love with me everywhere I went, albeit in silence. I was a Wilsonphile, and it was a pop culture cross to bear. No (at that time) I didn't like the beatles, I wasn't really into Iron Maiden or the Scorpions (although I wore their pins as sort of a passport visa into the middleschool killzone, where many a boy was bloodied for not knowing the lyrics to Number of the Beast) and I just wasn't that rock and roll in my musical development.

In 1985, my parents bought be the a video called "Beach Boys - an American Band". It was this videotape that gave me my first look at the darker more complex side of Brian Wilson. It was the first time I heard Surf's Up. It was the first time I saw Brian as anything other than the skinny, surfboard carrying posterboy from California. I became fascinated with this side of the BeachBoys, and over time, grew to appreciate Pet Sounds for the masterpiece it is. I read all the press about the greatest album Brian never released called Smile. I had cuts of Heroes and Villains and Good Vibrations. I would later debate bandmates on the influence the Beach Boys had on the Beatles and vice versa.

All of this came to a head for me on Saturday night. Brian Wilson, apparently resurrected from years of creative castration, rerecorded Smile in it's entirety and has been performing it around the world. I nabbed tickets for Natasha and I, and we got ourselves seated in the cold fall air of an outdoor amphitheatre. Brian and his band (19 members all of who seemed to be able to play every instrument) warmed up with some acapella versions of Beach Boys standards, and then played a set of Beach Boys / Brian Wilson tunes. Good, especially for devotee like myself, but a bit to sugary sweet for Natasha (who was giving me look as if to say "if you like this crap, you really ARE old..."). I started to panic, certainly it would be better than this. Tell me I haven't waited in vain for this moment of pop nirvana only to be distracted by the glow stick sales guy and a slightly off key version of Barbara Ann. Brian and Co. took a break, we the audience took a collected breath, and waited.

Upon return, Brian and Co. launched into Smile. It's hard to describe the clear distinction between Smile and EEBWHD (Everything Else Brian Wilson Has Done). Where EEBWHD is sweet and fun, Smile is a symphony of genius, manic mood swings, and instrumental bliss. To say I was blown away is too easy. I was blown apart; with all the little pieces of my sonic id caught up in the ripcurl of a sweeping orchestra. Heroes and Villians was Wonkwellian in scope. Surfs Up will be forever be my standard for pop ballad complexity. Hearing Good Vibrations in the context of Smile was an "a-ha" moment for me, sort of like seeing the Directors cut of The Abyss (I know, an obscure reference for most.) I snuck a glance or too at Nat, and I was pleased to see that she was having her own awakening to pop genius, manifested by a long series of softly repeated "wow"s.

As I left the amphitheatre, I hummed, "Hung velvet overtaken me / Dim chandelier awaken me / To a song dissolved in the dawn. The music hall a costly bow / The music all is lost for now /To a muted trumperter swan." Genius is a mysterious beauty.