The Beach Boys in Barcelona (Poble Espanyol, July 23, 2012)

Many of the cool kids who go crazy at Primavera Sound paternalistic I smiled when I explained that I was dying to see the Beach Boys playing in Barcelona. As if there were more than a nice old men representing a charming little theater, as if thinking in silence, shielded by the authority that they believe give them pop their bangs and glasses, "How cute, that is moved by the Beach Boys." They did not seem to realize how momentous that tour, which was to meet Brian Wilson, the mastermind of the group and one of the great geniuses who gave us the history of contemporary music, with the survivors of the original first after more than 20 years without sharing the stage.
I understand that it is possible that the credibility of the Beach Boys has been reduced with the indiscriminate use of his name has made Mike Love, revolving around the world clad in Hawaiian shirts and using the pull eternal Wilson's masterpieces, but regardless of opportunism and internal strife, how to miss the chance to see them reunited with his soul undisputed in the summer they turn 50 years of training?
I certainly did not want to miss, and still suffering the consequences of such a memorable recital (my usual post-concert hoarse and depression), I face the difficult task today to review it without letting myself get carried away like that so little overwhelmed in certain sectors and in which, however, know in advance that I will fall hopelessly as I am, first and foremost a fan excited.But enough preamble and get to it. Forty-five songs in total gave us the septuagenarians of California, backed by the impeccable vocal and instrumental support from The Wondermints, a power pop group from Los Angeles that has to accompany Brian Wilson since he began touring at 99. For over 2 hours were shelling their greatest hits in front of the bright eyes of music lovers of all ages happy bailoteamos Poble Espanyol and found that neither the time nor the mental instability, or fighting, or anything in the world can with songs like yours. 'Surfin' Safari ',' Surfer Girl ',' When I grow up to be a man ',' Heroes & Villains', 'In my room', 'I get around', 'California Girls' (or Catalonia girls, as called Mike Love) and so many others (including the single from the new album "That's why god made the radio"), Wilson and his family celebrated his birthday in the best of ways, offering his music magic of youth and everlasting happiness .
But the Beach Boys are not only responsible for a myriad of melodies eternal life we ​​rejoice forever. They were also the protagonists of a musical revolution with legendary albums that led to limit the production process under study and who provided the pop music of unusual complexity artistically before. The themes of "Pet Sounds", therefore, move us even further and into the night, hearts stop for a few seconds when starting the characteristic initial piano 'God only Knows' and our hero takes the reins. Wilson's voice, hidden behind her piano black and looks like something helpless, not what it was (although I used to sing this song Carl, his brother, who died in 98) and yet it is beautiful ethereal fragility floating in the night. See you there, silent and stunned, I remember a paradox that has always impressed me: the fact that songs so clear, harmonious and perfect as the Beach Boys have gotten out of a revolt and tormented soul such as that of Wilson. Also reflect on whether the creation must necessarily come from the hand of torture and the boundaries separating genius from madness ... but who am I kidding ... I have them cheap these ramblings now and then, when the greatness of their immortal songs had me totally taken away. Not letting us continue to recover two of my favorites (there are so many in fact this term has little meaning): "Sloop John B '(which for a long time I thought it was original but Wilson is apparently a traditional song of the Caribbean ) and 'Would not it be nice', so overwhelming, excitedly romantic and fantastic as ever.
Mike Love was the master of ceremonies, and although some time ago, after reading me a very interesting biography of Wilson, I vowed to hate him forever, the truth is that I like nice night, with his cap tacky, their growls in Catalan and dancing something corseted. To his right: Al Jardine, discreet and tiny but still impeccable voice and Bruce Johnston, in charge of replacing Brian when he retired from the stage at 65, smiling and affectionate, encouraging the audience when their keyboards not were necessary. And from the other side of the stage came the surfers taps David Marks, the lead guitarist who lived only two years of the splendor of the sixty (63 and 64) and having returned to training late in the next decade.
Also several memorable versions sounded like 'Then I Kissed Her' by The Crystals, "Rock'n'roll music 'Chuck Berry' Califoria Dreamin'' The Mama's and the Papa's, 'Cotton Fields' Lead Belly or my dear 'Do you wanna dance' by Bobby Freeman, a happy surprise with which they returned after the encore. The concert closes the best possible way, to the rhythm of rock'n'roll, with 'Fun, fun, fun' his ode to the fun and carefree teenager hamburguesera.
Ah, the Beach Boys. How simple is being happy when you hear his songs.