Brian Wilson Live –
The Musings of a Fan
by Gerry Borreggine (e-mail: winksinc@aol.com)
Tower Theater, Philadelphia, PA; June 17, 1999
With the fervent zeal of a member of an esoteric religious cult, I – along with my entire family – trekked to the Tower Theater in Philadelphia to catch a glimpse, and hear the sound of the object of my affection, Brian Wilson.
In anticipation of the much heralded show, my biggest concern was that the show wouldn’t come to fruition. After all, being a Brian Wilson/Beach Boys fan, one has come to expect the worst, and deal with the disappointment. Beyond that, my next greatest fear was that Brian would show, but he would embarrass himself, or taint his legacy, with a performance reminiscent the debacle of Saturday Night Live of more than two decades ago. Memories of such are etched into the mind of many a Brian Wilson fan, as unpleasant as they may be. The music hall a costly bow, the music is all lost for now, to a muted trumpeter’s swan…
However, as approximately 3,000 happy fans will attest, Brian did show and no, he didn’t embarrass himself at all. In fact, I’d go as far to say that he distinguished himself with his performance of that night. It was a good show by any standard.
Brian is by no means "a performer." But the show wasn’t about the performance. It was about the music. Brian could have just sat there and listened along with the crowd as the band behind him rendered the live performances of the songs he recorded in the studio. Having him there to personally endorse these live interpretations of his music was enough validation for any Brian Wilson fan.
But he did perform, and he did so admirably. On the live performance scale, if you placed someone like Bruce Springsteen on one end of the spectrum, Brian would be at the opposite end. With his catalog of songs, he doesn’t have to be Brian Wilson the entertainer. He’s Brian Wilson the composer, the creator of the California myth, and the man responsible for a collection of music that would rival that of any American composer in the Twentieth Century. On this night, the music was the star of the show. I heard the word, wonderful thing, a children’s song…
However, most of those in the audience already knew that. They had come to praise the man responsible for that music.
After the opening, stage-setting movie that preceded the show, Brian rumbled out on stage a bit stiff and a little muted in voice. But hearing the Little Girl I Once Knew, and This Whole World live would be a treat for any fan, even if listed through a tin can attached to a string. By the third song, Don’t Worry Baby, the sound check was complete and Brian’s voice had been nicely threaded through the patchwork quilt of sound that was woven, and emanating from the stage.
At this point, I am close to sensory overload. After all the years, and living vicariously with everything Brian has been through, having him about thirty feet in front of me and singing the songs that have become the soundtrack of my life, I am doing everything I can to prevent the lump in my throat from becoming tears streaming down my face. A choke of grief heart hardened I beyond belief, a broken man too tough to cry…
This was a celebration, and I was happy to be a part of it. Surf’s up, mm, mm, mm mm, mm, mm, aboard a tidal wave…
From a performance standpoint, the most impressive item about the show was the attention to detail. It was every note, and every nuance, of every song captured in the spirit of this performance. The Wondermints were, in a word, wonderful. I’m sure many Beach Boys fans were thinking, "If only the Beach Boys did this when Carl was alive."
This wasn’t only a great Brian Wilson concert, it was the best Beach Boys show I’d ever seen – including the terrific performances of the 1971-72 era. This show was musically better than any of that.
As for the crowd, they were psyched, but psyched in a respectful and dignified fashion. Brian got a thunderous standing ovation at the completion of each song. That ovation always trickled over into the next song, but Brian was working fast and not allowing for any lingering applause. Once the next song had begun, the audience respectfully took their seats and listened intently to the next rendition. It was like a holy ritual in a Catholic Church. The followers knew exactly when to stand, when to sit, when to sing, and when to rejoice. The only thing missing was the kneeling. But emotionally, many in the audience were kneeling at the alter of sound, looking up in amazement at the man who brought them to this pilgrimage.
This was a night that validated the feelings of so many of the fans in the audience. We were the people who got it. We knew we were in exclusive company over the years, but this night was a time for us to say to the others, "See? Now do you understand what we’ve been telling you?" The glass was raised, the fired rose, the fullness of the wine, the dim last toasting…
Brian Wilson was back – but this time, it was for real.