Twenty Ways of Thinking About No Pier Pressure

[Wirestone]

Here's my review. It circles around itself and doesn't cover everything I'd like. But if I work on it any longer, the thing will acquire sentience and take over my home. Enjoy?

Twenty ways of thinking about “No Pier Pressure”
Notes and contradictions on the road to a review

One.

Brian Wilson’s “No Pier Pressure” (Capitol, 2015) is unapologetically populist. Many of his fans might not appreciate that his work as an avant garde artiste was confined to a couple of years in the 1960s.

Both before and after that span, Brian has devoted his musical energies to making songs that people would enjoy. Like most pop craftsman, he deploys interesting and unusual effects to please and amuse his listeners, rather than challenge or unnerve them.

At a fundamental level, “No Pier Pressure” is an example of Brian Wilson's intrinsic, instinctual approach to music. That is, he reaches out. Even when he is sad and introspective and wondering about the shape of the world, he reaches out through his music to others. That is his way of connecting.

That is his way of loving.

Two.

This is the most carefully produced Brian Wilson record since his self-titled solo debut in 1988. It was labored over in the studio for at least a year and half. And this time and care is directly reflected in the variety of songs, the layered arrangements and the careful mixes.

This isn't to say that Brian's quick productions of the 2000s – a couple of weeks in the studio with the band and a couple of months’ worth of vocal overdubs – are any less worthwhile.

But the detailed production really fits with the 16 pop miniatures that fill the deluxe edition of “No Pier Pressure.”

Three.

You can't talk about new Brian Wilson work since 2012 without talking about Joe Thomas. For me, there are two parts of the Joe Thomas equation. There is Thomas the songwriter and Thomas the producer.

As a producer, Thomas favors a slick, studio cats-centered aesthetic. But as a songwriter, he has managed to work with Brian on some deep and meaningful songs.

“Lay Down Burden,” for example. “From There to Back Again.” On the new album, tracks including “This Beautiful Day,” “Whatever Happened” and “The Last Song.” Thomas, for whatever reason, allows Brian to access emotional depths that the man seldom does on his own.

I'll make an exception for “Midnight’s Another Day.” But it's worth noting that that song was crafted when Scott Bennett realized that the “That Lucky Old Sun” tracks lacked an emotional center. He sat down and slowed down the chords and melody to “Message Man,” eventually massaging it -- with Brian’s aid -- into “Midnight’s Another Day.”

As for Thomas as co-producer, all I can say is that he seems to have learned and changed since the “Imagination” days. “No Pier Pressure” doesn't sound like like the 1998 album. For that matter, it doesn't sound exactly like “That’s Why God Made the Radio,” either. It's its own entity.

Four.

Brian's vocals deserve a book of their own. But in this album they are a mixture of beautifully considered, carefully phrased, gentle mastery and points where Brian -- for the first time -- really sounds older.

The hard, dry edge given to his voice in “One Kind of Love” is a prominent example. He finally sounds like a singer in his 70s. There are cracks and strained moments. And yet the song is one of the album’s most affecting because of that naked sound.

That being said, “Whatever Happened” has a marvelous, tender mood. And while “The Last Song” has some wizened moments, it’s still carefully, sweetly sung. There’s evidence aplenty of the vocal rejuvenation that began for Brian about a decade ago.

Five.

Sequencing is always an often-overlooked factor for albums. In “Gettin’ in Over My Head,” for example, I felt that one of the record’s flaws was that it got bogged down in the second half. Too many rejected songs from “Sweet Insanity,” too many midtempo ballads following one after another.

The sequencing of “No Pier Pressure” seems far better, but there is one glaring exception. And that's the placement of “Runaway Dancer” as the second track on the album. It's easy to understand how that decision was made. Capitol believes that the song has single potential.

It was the second teaser song released, after all. Sebu worked on it extensively, and it was even mastered separately from the rest of the album (one assumes for maximum bass and compression).

But coming after “This Beautiful Day,” the track challenges listeners profoundly. And it's clear from reviews of the album that there were many critics who simply could not listen to the album the same way after hearing “Runaway Dancer” as the second track.

Frankly, this seems like a problem. I'm not sure what would have solved the issue; possibly switching the song with “Sail Away” in the running order would have worked. But it's clear that this song – more than any other on the album – colors listeners’ opinions of the entire experience.

That’s not fair to the album. But it’s true nonetheless.

Six.

While “No Pier Pressure” is populist, it’s also sneakily experimental. Brian hasn't written an instrumental for an album since the 1960s. And “Half Moon Bay” is an exquisite creation, all gauzy harmonies and blissed-out brass.

For that matter, how cool is it that the instrumental track is followed by the a cappella one? “Our Special Love” didn’t overly impress when heard last year, but now it's a surprising highlight.

Then we come to a song like “Don't Worry,” which is clearly Brian fooling around in the studio and having a bit of fun. It's not the deepest song in the world, and it certainly sounds a bit awkward. But it's no less endearing.

The slice of life mopery of “I’m Feeling Sad,” the comical endings of “On the Island” and “Guess You Had to be There” -- they all suggest a record producer having the time of his life in the studio, tweaking his listeners ever so gently along the way.

Seven.

The first that most people heard of “No Pier Pressure” was the song “Our Special Love,” debuted toward the end of 2014 on Peter Hollens’ album. Given that Brian’s album was originally scheduled for the end of the year, too, it made sense to have a simultaneous release on both albums.

But then Brian's release date slipped, and folks heard the Hollens version first. That was a shame. The version on “No Pier Pressure” is vastly superior.

For one thing, there are more Wilsonian vocal harmonies throughout. For another, Brian's voice is processed far less than on the Hollens version. No Robo-Brian here, and the song is all the better for it. He sounds a older, but as mentioned before, that's a good thing.

Eight.

I find myself thinking about the “arranged by Brian Wilson” credit on the album. It seems important.

I don't know if it's literally true. The Brian Wilson solo production credit on “That’s Why God Made the Radio” might not have been accurate in the way that people think of modern record production. But given Brian's crucial role in reuniting the band for that record and tour, it feels appropriate.

So on this record, it's interesting that while Joe Thomas has returned to an official co-production spot, Brian takes the arrangement credit for himself. This was not the case for “Imagination,” 17 years ago. That was produced and arranged by both men.

What has changed in the interim?

It suggests to me that while Joe was likely involved in arranging the songs in some capacity – he is co-writer of most of the album, after all – that Brian took ownership of the sonic signature of this project.

The album doesn't quite sound like anything that Brian and Joe have done before, either. There's a density to the production, a layering of instruments and effects, that is a departure. These are trucks that have been worked on thoughtfully and carefully over an extended period.

Nine.

The length of time it took to create this album is inextricable from the album itself. In other words, the depth of sound I've mentioned, the multiple guest appearances, the dozens of musicians featured on the record, all of this seems tied up in the nearly two years of recording that went into “No Pier Pressure.”

In some ways, this was to the record’s benefit. It seems likely that Brian deciding to write in the studio was an outgrowth of him spending so much time in it. Who knows what songs and arrangement ideas we got as a result?

But I also wonder if that length of time contributes to  a lack of focus. Almost all of Brian's solo record – and his beach boys reunion disks – have benefited from short, concentrated bursts of activity. This means that even if they're bad, they're bad all in the same way.

“No Pier Pressure” on the other hand, goes in multiple directions from the very start. There are at least three different kinds of albums contained within. The sheer number of tracks suggests this abundance of material and preparation time as well.

Ten.

What of “Runaway Dancer”? It's the single most divisive track of the record (possibly because of the sequencing, but let’s put that aside for the moment). Without Ray Lawlor's description of the track’s genesis, it would be too easy to assume that this track was a Sebu creation with Brian guesting.

We now know this simply wasn't the case. It was wholly Brian’s creation, dating from his spurt of writing in the late ‘90s, subsequently tracked with Al abd Blondie. Sebu’s contributions came in punching up the production and rewriting the chorus.

I admit this is a purely subjective reaction, but in hearing about that origin, I found this track more interesting then I might otherwise. Simply put, this is Brian radically varying his  tone and approach.

Eleven.

For the record, I have an unlikely favorite song. I think that Brian and Kasey Musgraves’ duet is the joyous heart of the album. “Guess You Had to Be There” is a relatively simple song. It cycles through a few chords and doesn't offer much in the way of songwriting surprises.

Yet the interplay of the voices, Brian and Kasey trading leads, both singing harmonies, is totally arresting. The banjo-driven track sounds like a long-lost Smile-era era shuffle. And lovely instrumental details – like the fuzz guitar at the start of Kasey’s second verse – catch the ear.

A lovely lyric both revels in the past and looking askance at it. And then you have that hilarious closing couplet, summing up the challenges of anyone who has a really good time. That is, you eventually have to wake up and face reality.

Twelve.

The great Autotune debate has been going on in one form or another since “Imagination.” Whatever program it is, whatever you want to call it, it's more than likely that some sort of pitch correction software has been used on some Brian Wilson recording of the past 17 years.

The question is, what we you do about it? What real contribution does it make to the discussion to start going back-and-forth about the technology's use? All the pitch correction in the world cannot make a bad performance good. If that were the case, “Gettin’ In Over My Head” would be considered a modern classic.

Vocal tuning is a tool, one of an arsenal of tools available to modern recording artists.

If there was any indication that Brian was half-assing this record, or that Joe Thomas had secretly whisked the tapes away to Illinois to finish them without Brian's knowledge, that would be one thing. But by all accounts, Brian was as active and engaged in the recording of this album as any of his solo projects in the past quarter century.

So whatever is on the record is on the record. Brian liked it or signed off on it in some way. What we now need to do, is figure out a way to talk about the record and its contents on their own terms.

Whatever was used on the last Beach Boys studio album was too much. This album, though, sounds to my ears more naturalistic. It's still polished, and it still has a sheen. Again though, that's the choice of the artist. The ultimate artistic intent and goal is what's worth talking about.

Thirteen.

The main shortcoming of “No Pier Pressure”? It’s too much. There are too many songs, there are probably too many guest artists. There are probably too many stylistic diversions.

If the album of been trimmed down to 12 tracks, under 40 minutes of music, with all but the Kasey and Nate Ruess his tracks included, you would probably have a stronger if less interesting record.

That album would open up with “This Beautiful Day,” go into “Sail Away,” and continue into “Whatever Happened.” Follow that up with “Half Moon Bay,” “The Right Time,” “Guess You Had to Be There,” “Somewhere Quiet,” “I’m Feeling Sad,” “Tell Me Why,” “One Kind of Love,”  “Saturday Night” and “The Last Song.”

That's a compact, meaningful record that deals with aging and mortality and loss.

Fourteen.

But that's not the album we got on April 7. And I’m grateful for what arrived instead.

Perhaps the easiest way to think about “No Pier Pressure” is as an old-fashioned double album. Particularly if you include the Target bonus tracks, you have a sprawling record that approaches an hour in length.

Like most of your classic double albums, it explores stylistic territory, it goes down dead ends, and it finds a space for jokes and whimsy and experimentation.

I don't think people expect an old-fashioned double album from a 70-something, rock 'n roll survivor. I don't think people expect an album that includes an instrumental and an a cappella peace and a bizarre Motown-meets-Four Seasons mash up.

But in all of its multiple personalities, in all of its myriad goals, “No Pier Pressure” encompasses and surpasses these scattered roots.

Fifteen.

The Scott Bennett tracks are masterful. And it's hard, upon hearing them, not to wish that Brian had collaborated with Scott on even more tunes. “Somewhere Quiet” does the impossible – adding words to a classic ’60s instrumental – and makes it sound like the most natural thing in the world.

And “One Kind of Love,” although a bit wordy, is precisely on point. If Scott has proved anything in his work with Brian, it's his ability to produce exactly the right song for the right moment. And this is that song for this album (and for the “Love and Mercy” film).

Sixteen.

The vocal blend sounds more like the Beach Boys on “No Pier Pressure” than it does on “That’s Why God Made the Radio.”

If one actually listens to the harmonies on the earlier record, you hear 99.9 percent Brian and his former right-hand man, Jeff Foskett. The other guys do cameo appearances at best. Given the short time frame they had for completing the album, I strongly suspect that Mike, Bruce and Al spent a couple of days in the studio apiece, overdubbing BW solo tracks.

“No Pier Pressure,” on the other hand, features Al and Blondie and Matt on harmony vocals on multiple songs. You can actually hear that four-part blend of multiple voices, with varied textures. Combined with Al and Blondie taking leads, along with the guest vocalists, and you have an album that is far more about the union of different voices, all singing at once, than “Radio” ever was.

Seventeen.

For the record, as meaningful as “Summer's Gone” is, I've always liked it more as a concept than a reality, Brian's exquisite vocals notwithstanding. A tad too much of a “Caroline, No” pastiche for my tastes.

The melody and execution of fellow album-closer “The Last Song” really speak to me. It is overwrought and big hearted, but it's also reticent and tender. It's mixed so peculiarly (why are the drums so buried?) that I can only imagine BW was twiddling the dials. It falls short of its potential while surpassing it at the same time. It's a miraculous, confounding, touching, gauche, nearly perfect yet also flawed.

In one song, basically, you have the experience of Brian's entire solo career. For that matter, his band's career too. However well you put things, however well you express yourself, the words pale in comparison to wordless harmonies.

Eighteen.

What does it mean to have a new Brian Wilson album in 2015? That’s the question that must be answered for anything to make sense.

This is a man who is only 72 years old. By some measures, while certainly a senior citizen, he's not that old. Hillary Clinton, for example, is only five years younger. But for an active participant in popular culture, he’s ancient.

That should change.

Along with the eternally youthful Paul McCartney and eternally wizened Bob Dylan, Brian is actually charting a new path in pop music. That is, they are musical legends who are continuing to work in a serious, intentional way.

Dylan has taken the route of the bluesman. He tours incessantly, playing smaller venues and reveling in a rich back catalog. His new releases, often adoringly reviewed, are collages of influences, distinctly different from the work that gained him acclaim in his youth yet still worthy of notice.

McCartney keeps pushing forward. The former Beatle is collaborating with Kanye West, and continually scouting young producers for his next album project. That doesn’t count his continual releases of classical and electronica albums.

In their own ways, both Dylan and McCartney are doing a version of what they have always done. Dylan is looking to the rich tradition of American music and literature for inspiration. McCartney is, as ever, engaged in the present, trying to link his melodic gift with modern sounds.

And so Brian to is doing a version of what he has always done. That is, he is recording music based in harmony and melody. He's writing with other voices in mind, and willingly engaging with creative collaborators.

Because one of Brian's unique talents, as opposed to so many other rock frontman of the past 50 years, is that he is a collaborator. His best work comes in a group setting, when his ideas bounce off other capable musical brains.

His brothers, co-writers and studio musicians in the ’60s were perfect collaborators. In recent years, he’s turned to his touring band to help craft his work. Now, he combines voices from the past (Al and Matt Jardine) with new ones.

It’s less attention-grabbing than recent McCartney and Dylan releases, but Brian is a less attention-grabbing man.

Nineteen.

Past Brian Wilson solo albums have often – despite their suite-like construction – focused on the individual song above all else. This, on an album like 1998’s “Imagination,” you have songs like the title track and “Happy Days,” which function essentially as self-contained entities. There's suites in and of themselves.

This makes sense. Brian created “Good Vibrations,” the original pocket symphony. Why wouldn't you want to put as much in a song as possible?

But that approach can run up against limits. Take the forced bridging sections of “That Lucky Old Sun.” Thus, the myriad short songs on “No Pier Pressure” seem like a deliberate and refreshing change. Brian is no longer trying to pack everything possible into three or four minutes. Sometimes, he puts together a couple of verses, a couple of choruses, and ends it in less than three minutes (“On the Island”)

Other songs are more complex of course, and “Sail Away” merges multiple sections and moods.

But the comparison to “Friends” struck me as most apt. That’s an album with many short songs, and many of those songs are not iconic in and of themselves. It is the way they combine on the album that gives them power and appeal.

Thus, “No Pier Pressure” is  truly greater than the sum of its parts. “This Beautiful Day” only works, really, as an intro. And “Half Moon Bay,” with its gauzy instrumental atmosphere, serves as a perfect palate cleanser. They truly shine in the context of an album.

Twenty.

Brian Wilson, the songwriter and producer behind the Beach Boys’s best work, has returned with a new solo album. It’s called “No Pier Pressure,” and it’s a gorgeous, mellow reflection on aging and heartache.

Wilson rejoined the Beach Boys in 2012 for a triumphant reunion tour and album (“That’s Why God Made the Radio”), but the famously fractious band ended up splitting again. Wilson, who had already started writing for the group’s follow-up album, took the breakup hard.

The project turned into a solo album instead, but it’s tough to see “No Pier Pressure” as an exclusively solo project. For one thing, former Beach Boys Al Jardine, Blondie Chaplin and David Marks all appear on the album. Jardine, in particular, sings partial lead vocals on five of 16 tracks.

What’s more, Wilson and co-producer Joe Thomas invited a motley assortment of guest artists – including Zooey Deschenal, Kasey Musgraves and Nate Ruess – to contribute. They sing on another five tracks between them. Trumpeter Mark Isham appears on an instrumental.

All the guests, not to mention all the songs, gives the album a communal feel. Wilson may not be working with the Beach Boys, but he still has a group of willing collaborators. And the results are varied and tuneful.

Opener “This Beautiful Day,” “Whatever Happened” and “Somewhere Quiet” are steeped in the luxuriant instrumentation and heavenly harmonies that made Wilson famous. The disco-influenced “Runaway Dancer” (featuring Capitol Cities’ Sebu) and Motown-style “Don’t Worry” claim fresh musical territory.

Among the high-profile guests, it’s the country-influenced Musgraves who comes off best, with the bouncy “Guess You Had to Be there.” But Ruess (formerly of the band fun.) energizes “Saturday Night,” and Deshenel is perfectly suited to the bossa nova stylings of “On the Island.”

Wilson himself, though, claims the spotlight toward the end of the album with a pair of solo tracks that emphasize his still tuneful (if sometimes frayed) voice. On “One Kind of Love” he pays tribute to his wife, Melinda, whose care brought him back to public life after years of mental illness. And in “The Last Song,” he pays tribute to his absent band, with a mixture swirling string and wordless harmony.

The album isn’t particularly stylish or fashionable, despite its guest roster. It is, instead, a 72-year-old continuing to make the music he wants, with the support of loyal friends and fans. Despite his years of struggles, or perhaps because of them, “No Pier Pressure” shines.

[luckyoldsmile]

Perfect.

[Fire Wind]

Thirteen.

The main shortcoming of “No Pier Pressure”? It’s too much. There are too many songs, there are probably too many guest artists. There are probably too many stylistic diversions.

If the album of been trimmed down to 12 tracks, under 40 minutes of music, with all but the Kasey and Nate Ruess his tracks included, you would probably have a stronger if less interesting record.

I think the album's only thirteen tracks, really.  The deluxe sequencing's a gimmick.  I moved the three bonus tracks out of their spots on my ipod and found the album works a lot better.

[Autotune]

Lovely and thought-provoking essay. Bravo.

[MarcellaHasDirtyFeet]

Very, very nicely done. A review filled with love for a record filled with love. I love this album, even though I know how goshdarn weird it really is, and there isn't anything I would sacrifice or change about it. Idiosyncratic, to say the least.

[Awesoman]

Nice review but sometimes less is more.   

[Wirestone]

Nice review but sometimes less is more.  

Ya think?  

Thirteen.

The main shortcoming of “No Pier Pressure”? It’s too much. There are too many songs, there are probably too many guest artists. There are probably too many stylistic diversions.

If the album of been trimmed down to 12 tracks, under 40 minutes of music, with all but the Kasey and Nate Ruess his tracks included, you would probably have a stronger if less interesting record.

I think the album's only thirteen tracks, really.  The deluxe sequencing's a gimmick.  I moved the three bonus tracks out of their spots on my ipod and found the album works a lot better.

I just can't bring myself to give up Somewhere Quiet and I'm Feeling Sad. Very Brian tracks, and the album needs that flavor IMO.

[guitarfool2002]

Eleven.

For the record, I have an unlikely favorite song. I think that Brian and Kasey Musgraves’ duet is the joyous heart of the album. “Guess You Had to Be There” is a relatively simple song. It cycles through a few chords and doesn't offer much in the way of songwriting surprises.

Yet the interplay of the voices, Brian and Kasey trading leads, both singing harmonies, is totally arresting. The banjo-driven track sounds like a long-lost Smile-era era shuffle. And lovely instrumental details – like the fuzz guitar at the start of Kasey’s second verse – catch the ear.

A lovely lyric both revels in the past and looking askance at it. And then you have that hilarious closing couplet, summing up the challenges of anyone who has a really good time. That is, you eventually have to wake up and face reality.

A great analysis and read overall!

On #11, joyous is indeed the word. I singled this passage out because at this point a petition should be started to get "Guess You Had To Be There" put into the promotional pipeline as a "single" and start promoting it heavily. I've been pushing this song much like the opinions above since my analysis/review because to me it is the standout track, and it's worthy of much more attention than it's been getting so far. A terrific, catchy track that could catch on outside of being an album track.

[KDS]

My goodness. 

That was a very good read. 

I usually subscribe to the theory of keeping albums at under 50 minutes, and the 16 track version of NPP goes just over.  I received a copy of the 13 track version in the mail with the Soundstage DVD I ordered, so I might give that one a spin to see how it compares. 

[send me a picture and i'll tell you]

Great stuff, Clay. Post it on Cracked!

[♩♬🐸 Billy C ♯♫♩🐇]

Great review, but gotta ask...what's the source on Midnight's Another Day being a Message Man rewrite?

[Jim V.]

Great review, but gotta ask...what's the source on Midnight's Another Day being a Message Man rewrite?

I remember that it was in Mark Dillon's book. That 50 Sides of The Beach Boys thing or whatever. And I'm pretty sure that "Message Man" was originally entitled "Beatleman."

[Wirestone]

Great review, but gotta ask...what's the source on Midnight's Another Day being a Message Man rewrite?

I remember that it was in Mark Dillon's book. That 50 Sides of The Beach Boys thing or whatever. And I'm pretty sure that "Message Man" was originally entitled "Beatleman."

That's the one. An interesting account, directly from Scott.

[♩♬🐸 Billy C ♯♫♩🐇]

Yeah I knew about Beatleman-> Message man as I was told the same thing, but first I heard of MAD evolving from it.

[Wirestone]

You can read the page in question by using the "look inside" feature on the book's Amazon listing ...

[♩♬🐸 Billy C ♯♫♩🐇]

Cool...will check it out. Been meaning to get that book too

[phirnis]

... But the comparison to “Friends” struck me as most apt. That’s an album with many short songs, and many of those songs are not iconic in and of themselves. It is the way they combine on the album that gives them power and appeal.

In terms of overall production style (which I'm aware you weren't talking about specifically) Friends is a very subtle/understated album, which is a quality I do not hear in most NPP material. If I was going to compare it to a classic BB record I'd say it's much closer to Sunflower (lush & glossy, relaxed atmosphere, borderline saccharine at times).

[Lee Marshall]

Gotta say...I thoroughly enjoyed this 'contribution' to the celebration of No Pier Pressure.  Great 'take' on the entire entity.

I am a 'more is more' kind of guy...at least when it comes to Brian Wilson.  Can't think of a thing I want to return for a refund.

Thanks for that Wirestone.  How outstanding it is to read an analyses from someone who truly GETS it.

[the captain]

Wirestone, with ever-fewer reasons to bother, writing like yours makes this place worthwhile.

[Mr. Wilson]

Thank you for your essay..!! That was easily one of the top ten things ive EVER read on the internet involving or about Brian Wilson..  Outstanding and thought provoking. You spent alot of time thinking and planning your essay and hit the nail on the head at every point. It was a great read..                                                                                                                                                         

[Misterlou]

Brian's vocals deserve a book of their own. But in this album they are a mixture of beautifully considered, carefully phrase, gentle mastery and points where Brian -- for the first time -- really sounds older.

The hard, dry edge given to his voice in “One Kind of Love” is a prominent example. He finally sounds like a singer in his 70s. There are cracks and strained moments. And yet the song is one of the album’s most affecting because of that naked sound.

That being said, “Whatever Happened” has a marvelous, tender sound. And while “The Last Song” has some wizened moments, it’s still carefully, sweetly sung. There’s evidence aplenty of the vocal rejuvenation that began for Brian about a decade ago.

Amazing write-up Wirestone! I hadn't thought of Brian sounding "older" on some songs until you wrote that. "One Kind of Love" does certainly contrast with "Whatever Happened" in terms of the sound of his voice. I wonder if WH was recorded at or near the beginning of the NPP sessions and OKOL near the end, hence his sounding older... the ravages of time can do just as much damage to vocal chords as anything else. Or maybe he was just in top form on the day he recorded WH. Having said this, I think he sounds fantastic throughout this album - I can't stop listening to it. Thanks again for your great review.

[frightfulhog]

Really well-thought-out and done...interested in approaching/maybe writing on the "Brian as a collaborator" idea elsewhere

[MyDrKnowsItKeepsMeCalm]

Enjoyed the review very much. Well done!  

[Wirestone]

Thanks for the comments, guys. Responses to some of your posts coming up.

[Wirestone]

Really well-thought-out and done...interested in approaching/maybe writing on the "Brian as a collaborator" idea elsewhere

I tried to break down the issue in this earlier, marathon post (frankly, I think it's probably the best thing I've ever contributed to this board).

http://smileysmile.net/board/index.php/topic,13095.0.html

One of my key points from the thread:

"Brian has never -- as far as I can tell -- been an incredibly specific arranger (with the possible exception of portions of Pet Sounds and Smile). That is, he's not a trained orchestrator. His arrangements are generally based on his piano demos, with a key extra part or two. The rest of the backing tracks are developed by the session players, in collaboration with BW, and on their own. This was true in the '60s and in the 2010s. (Witness the staccato break in GOK, for example.)

"Thus, a lot of the BW "sound" is simply based on who he's working with. When he worked with the other BBs in the studio, the tracks had a garage-band sound. When he worked with the Wrecking Crew guys, his records sound like '60s, Spector-styled classics -- that's what that group produced. When he was on his own, on Love You or the TLOS demos, he produces very stripped-down tracks -- the demo-style piano and a few extra parts, as I mentioned. When he's with AC players, the tunes have an AC sound. When he's with his band, you get their slightly retro but modern power-pop effect. With Paley, you get full-blown '60s nostalgia.

"We've really done ourselves a disservice, I think, in thinking about BW as some all-encompassing creative genius when it comes to backing tracks. He has great ideas, and he has a gift for songwriting and vocal arranging. But the instrumental tracks are really the most collaborative part of his output -- and it seems like it's always been so, in one way or another."

Brian's vocals deserve a book of their own. But in this album they are a mixture of beautifully considered, carefully phrase, gentle mastery and points where Brian -- for the first time -- really sounds older.

The hard, dry edge given to his voice in “One Kind of Love” is a prominent example. He finally sounds like a singer in his 70s. There are cracks and strained moments. And yet the song is one of the album’s most affecting because of that naked sound.

That being said, “Whatever Happened” has a marvelous, tender sound. And while “The Last Song” has some wizened moments, it’s still carefully, sweetly sung. There’s evidence aplenty of the vocal rejuvenation that began for Brian about a decade ago.

Amazing write-up Wirestone! I hadn't thought of Brian sounding "older" on some songs until you wrote that. "One Kind of Love" does certainly contrast with "Whatever Happened" in terms of the sound of his voice. I wonder if WH was recorded at or near the beginning of the NPP sessions and OKOL near the end, hence his sounding older... the ravages of time can do just as much damage to vocal chords as anything else. Or maybe he was just in top form on the day he recorded WH. Having said this, I think he sounds fantastic throughout this album - I can't stop listening to it. Thanks again for your great review.

I think the difference between the tracks is mostly in the vocal production. One is up front and drier, one is further back and full of reverb. I like both flavors, though, and it's nice to get them in the same album.

Wirestone, with ever-fewer reasons to bother, writing like yours makes this place worthwhile.

Luther, that means a lot. Thank you.

... But the comparison to “Friends” struck me as most apt. That’s an album with many short songs, and many of those songs are not iconic in and of themselves. It is the way they combine on the album that gives them power and appeal.

In terms of overall production style (which I'm aware you weren't talking about specifically) Friends is a very subtle/understated album, which is a quality I do not hear in most NPP material. If I was going to compare it to a classic BB record I'd say it's much closer to Sunflower (lush & glossy, relaxed atmosphere, borderline saccharine at times).

Fair point. I was talking about the variety of shorter tunes, more than the production. I think Sunflower is a pretty apt comparison, actually, especially with the frequent use of strings (not something that pops up on many BW/BB albums).