Brian Wilson "Smiles" at Carnegie Hall

By Rafer Guzman

With a 10-piece band and an orchestra of eight, Brian Wilson played his long-awaited symphony, "SMiLE," and this august hall has likely never seen anything so loopy, baffling and bittersweet.

"SMiLE" is the now- mythical album that Wilson and lyricist Van Dyke Parks began in 1966 with hopes of elevating pop music to the level of high art. Early reports called it a work of genius, but production languished as Wilson drifted into drugs and depression. In 1967 The Beatles stole his thunder with "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," and Wilson scrapped "SMiLE," reportedly burning many of the tapes.

Ever since, fans have asked two questions: What does "SMiLE" sound like? And is it really a masterpiece? Wilson, 62, and Parks, 63, recently re-recorded the album and released it last month on Nonesuch Records. It answers the first question, though the second is still up for debate.

On Tuesday, the first of two dates at Carnegie Hall, Wilson tantalized his audience, opening with an hour of mostly lesser-known Beach Boys songs such as "Please Let Me Wonder" and "Add Some Music." He sat at a keyboard surrounded by 10 singers who helped create the multi-colored harmonies that he loves so well, while guitarist-singer Jeffrey Foskett anchored the songs with a falsetto that's no longer within Wilson's reach.

That set the stage for "SMiLE," which began with a wordless hymn and led into "Heroes and Villains," one of the album's more familiar tracks. With its carousel choruses and shuffling percussion, it was recognizable as a Beach Boys tune -- but that sense of familiarity soon faded.

"SMiLE" is not a conventional pop album by any means. The songs bleed into each other, and melodies often recur in different keys ("Good Vibrations" makes several appearances). Standard choruses give way to symphonic bombast. There are moments of evocative, pastoral pop ("Cabin Essence") but also long stretches of cloying hokum (the animal sounds of "Barnyard," the navel-gazing "Wind Chimes"). Often, "SMiLE" sounds like a Wilsonian stew of barbershop harmonies, jazz choir and boogie-woogie piano.

The album's highbrow pretensions (its main theme is the birth of America) make it hard to warm up to. Parks' lyrics are a real problem: Phrases such as "muted trumpeter swan" and "ruinated columns domino" convey self-conscious erudition instead of genuine emotion. And the song-cycle structure seems contrived, not organic. "Sgt. Pepper," by contrast, was groundbreaking, precisely because it worked within pop conventions rather than mimicking classical conceits.

Still, Wilson's peculiar vision shone through on goofy numbers such as "Vege-Tables" (featuring the chorus, "Sleep a lot, eat a lot, brush 'em like crazy") and "Mrs. O'Leary's Cow," an instrumental in which the string section donned fire helmets. At one point, Wilson held an electric power tool to the microphone and laughed heartily -- at what, who knows?

"SMiLE" ended with "Good Vibrations," a mini-symphony in itself. And Wilson capped the nearly three-hour show with rollicking favorites such as "Barbara Ann," "Surfin' U.S.A." and "Help Me, Rhonda." Those oldies will always stir more hearts than "SMiLE," but it's nice to finally have that oddball opus, too.