That Lucky Old Sun-A Narrative 328mb
Sample song-
That Lucky Old Sun (same as opening song in main link, but with a loud cough in the opening few bars from the guy next to me removed. The unedited 'as it happened' song is in the main link)
That Lucky Old Sun (Not listen on setlist, but the sequence of songs starts with this song.
'Morning Beat'
(Narrative- Room With a View)
'Good Kind Of Love'
'Forever My Surfer Girl'
(Narrative of Venice Beach)
'Live Let Live'
'Mexican Girl'
(Narrative of De Mayo)
'California Role'
(Narrative of between pictures)
'Oxygen'
(Narrative of Wilson Mantage) -This is actually "Been Way Too Long, the bonus track on the Smiley Smile/Wild Honey two-fer cd.
'Midnight's Another Day'
'Going Home'
'Southern California'
Rest of the show coming soon, this is the complete setlist.
'Girl Don't Tell Me'
'Dance Dance Dance'
'Salt Lake City'
'Catch A Wave'
'Then I Kissed Her'
'In My Room'
'Roll Around Heaven'
'Do You Wanna Dance?'
'When I Grow Up'
'She Knows Me Too Well'
'I'd Love Just Once'
'Do It Again'
'Please Let Me Wonder'
'
California Girls'
'Sloop John B'
'Wouldn't It Be Nice'
'God Only Knows'
'Heroes And Villains'
'Good Vibrations'
'Morning Beat'
(Narrative- Room With a View)
'Good Kind Of Love'
'Forever My Surfer Girl'
(Narrative of Venice Beach)
'Live Let Live'
'Mexican Girl'
(Narrative of De Mayo)
'California Role'
(Narrative of between pictures)
'Oxygen'
(Narrative of Wilson Mantage)
'Midnight's Another Day'
'Going Home'
'Southern California'
(Encores)
'Johnny B Goode'
'I Get Around'
'Help Me Rhonda'
'Barbara Ann'
'Surfin' USA'
'Fun Fun Fun'
'She's Leaving Home'
David Cheal reviews Brian Wilson at the Festival Hall (Daily Telegraph)
The re-emergence of Brian Wilson in recent years has been something wonderful to behold.
For decades, the genius behind the Beach Boys had been written off as a bloated, drug-addled loon, but then in 2002 he brought his classic Pet Sounds album to the Festival Hall and on tour; he was in good shape, and the show was a triumph.
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Since then, we've had the completion and première, again at the Festival Hall, of Smile, the album that sent him into a psychological tailspin in 1967; and now, at the venue that he calls his second home, the first performance of a new song cycle, That Lucky Old Sun.
He's still a fragile figure: at the start of this show, as he and his band took up their positions on the stage, it was hard not to be struck by his weird shuffling gait, or the bewilderment in his eyes as he sat at his keyboard.
But when the music began, he became transported. He was in his world.
And what a glorious, joyful, wistful, beautiful world it is. Although the first half of the show, devoted to old material, sounded a bit thin to begin with, before long the band had warmed up, the boys on the mixing desk had notched up the volume, and the crowd were beginning to show their appreciation. Do It Again was exquisite; Sloop John B brought tears to the eyes; God Only Knows was heartbreakingly beautiful.
Then came the new stuff. I was trepidatious about this bit, Wilson having written barely a half-decent tune in decades, but That Lucky Old Sun was proper music, beautifully arranged, lyrically a little gauche (the words were by band member Scott Bennett), but memorable, sweet, rich and touching.
The songs, linked by a spoken narrative written by Wilson's long-time collaborator Van Dyke Parks, are a meditation on Los Angeles. They draw a picture that's a far cry from the druggy mayhem of, say, the
Red Hot Chili Peppers' songs, but sweetness and innocence are what we've come to expect from Brian Wilson, and what we got: sunshine, girls, nostalgia.
Easily the best song was the powerful, plangent Midnight's Another Day, while Going Home was a warm blast of harmony. Who'd have thought it?
After that, it was back to the hits as Wilson's peerless band let rip. I Get Around, Help Me Ronda, Barbara Ann, Fun Fun Fun: this was pure joy. And at the heart of it was an odd, dumpy, unsmiling figure in T-shirt and saggy tracksuit bottoms: the great Brian Wilson.
Strange place to find a Beach Boy
By David Smyth, Evening Standard 11.09.07 More reviews by David Smyth
Survivor: Brian Wilson has endured childhood beatings and adult breakdowns
The adverts ahead of Brian Wilson's latest long stint in the Festival Hall proclaimed London as the head Beach Boy's "spiritual home". This is where his recent live presentations of his Pet Sounds and Smile albums have been best appreciated. Even so, it was a strange location for the world premiere of a new song suite that fulsomely extols the wonders of Wilson's real home, California.
That Lucky Old Sun was an accomplished collection of nine original songs weaving around the old standard that gave it its title and four animated spoken word pieces by van Dyke Parks, Wilson's wordsmith on Smile in 1966.
Despite Parks's involvement, there was none of the cryptic darkness of classic tracks such as Surf's Up. This was a sun-drenched postcard from the state where dreams come true, unwaveringly optimistic in its portrayal of surfer girls, beatniks and hustlers living in a place where apparently, "even if you're homeless you can do it in style".
It would be easy to sneer at Wilson's naivety, but he has endured childhood beatings and adulthood breakdowns to emerge, cracked but triumphant, with many of the greatest songs of the 20th century to his name. That he is on stage at all, grinning lopsidedly and barely touching the keyboard that acts as his security blanket, is a wonderful thing.
The new songs maintained the familiar warm, multilayered sound of old tracks such as Morning Beat and Going Home rocking and rolling with glee, while Mexican Girl and California Role parodied Latin music and Twenties swing respectively.
The tweeness was forgiven when Wilson paused for a blissful acappella moment and summed up his life beautifully: "At 25 I turned out the light/'Cause I couldn't handle the glare in my tired eyes/But now I'm back drawing shades of kind blue skies." Long may he continue to do so.
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