The Beach Boys Founder Thrills the Keswick Crowd with Classics and the Remarkable "Smile."

By Tom Moon

Even before he got to his long-lost extended suite Smile Friday night at the Keswick, Brian Wilson made a case for himself as one of the greatest - and still somehow underestimated - composers in American music.

During an opening set that lasted more than an hour, Wilson and his 10-piece ensemble captivated the packed theater with sparkling, note-perfect renditions of Beach Boys landmarks and songs from his solo career.

Sprinkled between the hits "Sloop John B" and "California Girls" were such lesser-known (and rarely performed) album tracks as "Add Some Music to Your Day" from Sunflower, and the poignant dream "Sail On, Sailor" and the early "Wendy." Each was a marvel, a world in miniature.

Some selections, such as the yearning 1965 album cut "Please Let Me Wonder," came across as lightning bolts of pure inspiration - timeless melodies that sounded as though they'd been plucked, whole, from the highest perch in the cosmos.

Others displayed a craftsman's attention to detail: The modulating chord sequence of his solo-era "Imagination" gave the song power and purpose as it unfolded; the plaintive "God Only Knows" showed Wilson's command of compact, almost nursery-rhyme-simple form.

One after the next came these disciplined two- and three-minute songs, first in an "acoustic" set that showcased the band's massive vocal harmony blend, then in a rock setting. By intermission, Wilson and company had transformed "vintage" selections and forgotten gems into outbursts of dazzling vitality. In half a show, this crew blazed through more significant music than most rock auteurs contribute in a lifetime.

Then came Smile.

When he wrote it, Wilson intended the set of short episodes to be his follow-up to Pet Sounds. He was seeking to stretch his musical ideas beyond the rock-band template - some pieces rely on strings and horns, others on elaborate mallet counterpoint, played on xylophone, vibraphone and marimba - and to break free of the constricting verse-chorus songwriting conventions without sacrificing accessibility.

Though the work, recently issued on CD for the first time, was conceived in the studio, it proved even more thrilling on stage. Individual sections were connected by odd fantasias (one simulated a carpenter's workshop) and recurring bits of quirky, quintessentially American interstitial music.

One of the many "Good Vibrations" melodies was recast, early in the work, as a carnival theme, while the willowy "Heroes and Villains" motif haunted the background of "Roll Plymouth Rock" and others.

Wilson's ensemble, which expanded to include a group called the Stockholm Strings and Horns, nailed both the essential building blocks and the less obvious, but no less important, counterpoint. The most impressive moments came when six or seven voices would join together: The singers, whose default blend was caramel-creme, soared over the oceanic "Surf's Up" in impressive unbroken formation, glided through the idyllic "In Blue Hawaii" with birdlike grace, and simulated a cascading waterfall to sing "Child Is the Father of the Man."

Smile ended with a riveting "Good Vibrations," and the band returned for an encore, including "I Get Around" and "Fun, Fun, Fun." Those were all great, but unnecessary: By this time, everyone was awed, if not struck dumb, by Wilson's genius.