Brian Wilson, No Pier Pressure. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * *

Legends never truly lose their shine in the world of art. The odd botched single along the way, the collaboration done for artistic vale but never truly welcomed by either fan or ready to poison the air cynic and perhaps the many brushes with the law with minor indiscretions that only fame can magnify to the point there every pore is seen and every mark suffering intense analysis, all add to the legendary status being saluted with ready open hand.

For Brian Wilson, a man whose status stretches before him like the shadow of an evening sun competing against the bright lights of many a side show on western ideal of culture, the pier high above the water’s edge, whatever he does, whatever he places before his audience, seems to be applauded with due respect and due diligence. This is to be seen fully in his brand new solo album No Pier Pressure, an album which, like the sea bombarding the metal structure of any British sea-side town, has several highs and a couple of lows thrown in for good measure.

No Pier Pressure, understandably no pressure at all; for what does Brian Wilson have left to prove in his musical career? Like Paul McCartney he can release music because he can, because he wants to and whilst he will undoubtedly always have one eye on his very loyal fan base, at the end of the day all that matters is he still able to record and offer a little bit of his soul out to be heard.

When it comes to songs such as Half Moon Bay the gorgeous outpouring of This Beautiful Day, Guess You Had To Be There, which features the tremendous talent of Kacey Musgrove, Saturday Night and Tell Me Why, which features Mr. Wilson’s Beach Boy cohort Al Jardine, the sun beams dance off ever pillar below the decks of the pier and gives the thought of radiating love to the people milling about above the incoming sea, wrapped in their own world, wrapped in their own enjoyment.

The issue perhaps comes when songs such as Runaway Dancer and On The Island find themselves fighting with the speakers and the small creak of a panel of wood is audible above the crashing waves below. Suddenly the light that shone a path to sanctity below the feet is whipped away and the only guide is the foam seeping through the shoes and pulling at your socks.

Thankfully the pier above is strong, robust and in otherwise terrific shape and in reality Brian Wilson has earned the right to record whatever he wants to record, the show will go on and the fun is not yet over.

Ian D. Hall