God Only Knows

Although I am still basking in the afterglow of Brian Wilson’s final concert at the Bristol Colston Hall, there is a degree of relief that it is all over. Sunday 15 May 2016 represented the fifth time I have seen the great man play live and, once again, it was an incredible experience. Wilson is 73 now but looks far more frail than he used to. The tortured genius, his life torn apart by chronic mental health and drugs, is headed for a much deserved retirement and I would like to thank him for the music.

The absence of a large arena in Bristol rarely bothers me since a) I don’t care for watching live shows in arenas and b) the type of bands I like are more suited to intimate surroundings like the Colston Hall, especially Brian Wilson and his incredible, multi-talented band.

For the first time, Wilson’s band included fellow Beach Boys founder member Al Jardine, a much younger 73 than the maestro himself and his voice still wonderfully intact and Blondie Chaplin, who joined the Beach Boys in the early 1970s, singing on the magnificent Sail On Sailor, performed impeccably last night. That Chaplin gave the band a far edgier sound has a lot to do with his background as a touring Rolling Stone. (Rumour had it that Chaplin was kicked out of the Stones for being a bad influence on Keith Richards!)

I spend much of the time at a Wilson show just hoping the man will get through it unscathed. His vocals, when his mind is on the job, can still be strong, but by the end he was visibly tired and he got close to making a real mess of the closing Love And Mercy. He was saved by his band, but it was touch and go for a while, but no matter.

Dwell on the positives and Brian Wilson is still out there, performing some of the finest music ever made, bringing joy to a surprisingly mixed age group. And you knew, as he shuffled awkwardly and unsteadily on stage, here was a music great, right up there with McCartney, Beethoven and all the other top composers of all time.

Just after 10.30pm, after two hours of stunning music, he was gone, never to return to Bristol. That I will never again see the master in concert does not sadden me one jot. Most of Wilson’s best music, if not all of it, was written over 40 years ago, some of it over 50 years ago. New music, new life and I don’t want such a genius to descend into the nostalgia jukebox side of the music industry.

Speaking of which, Pet Sounds was released 50 years ago today. The best album ever is a subjective term and for many can change on a daily basis. Not so for me with Pet Sounds. It is still achingly gorgeous, from the bright optimism of Wouldn’t It Be Nice, the epic God Only Knows, the jaunty Sloop John B right through to the final rawness of Caroline No. And Brian Wilson wrote those songs when he was 22.

God Only Knows what we’d have been without him.