Gettin' in over my head

Forty years on from the groundbreaking Pet Sounds, it would appear that hitching a ride on the Brian Wilson juggernaut – even allowing for his de facto acid-casualty, latter-day Syd Barret status – is still too tempting for the erstwhile Beach Boy’s legion of front-rank rock ‘n’ roll fans. Sadly, Gettin’ In Over My Head sees Wilson collaborating not with Stereolab, The High Llamas, Tortoise, Adventures In Stereo or any of the other underground mavericks spawned by Wilson’s sonic experiments in the mid-’60s, but rather the tried and trusted MOR brigade of Eric Clapton, Paul McCartney and even – Christ! – Elton John.
The latter performer features on the opening number ‘How Could We Still Be Dancing?’, which commences with some promising Beach Boys-like harmonies, before segueing into an irredeemably mediocre, bar band-style blues boogie.
Clapton’s contribution, meanwhile, is a disappointingly nondescript slice of generic dad-rawk, whilst Macca faxes in one of his maudlin piano ballads for the ultra-soppy ‘A Friend Like You’. Thankfully however, evidence that this is the work of the man who masterminded the likes of ‘California Girls’ and ‘Until I Die’ is unveiled to spectacular effect on the magnificent ‘Soul Searchin’ ‘, which sees Wilson drop an unused vocal by his late brother Carl into an intoxicating blend of dreamy harmonies, ringing guitar notes and Arkestra-l manoeuvres in the dark. The result is a sublime return to ’60s psych-pop splendor similar to what Bruce Springsteen achieved on his gorgeously bittersweet Ramones tribute, ‘Hungry Heart’.
Regrettably, as Jim O’Rourke (another Wilson devotee) once lamented, it’s all downhill from here. ‘Make A Wish’ and ‘Rainbow Eyes’ are so-so West Coast-pop by-numbers, whilst ‘Saturday Morning In The City’ is a cartoon-y track that never quite escapes the feel of twee juvenilia. The concluding song, ‘The Waltz’, meanwhile, sounds like a Band b-side.
He’s still capable of the odd moment of genius, and his place in the pantheon of rock greats is more or less sacrosanct, but Gettin’ In Over My Head singularly fails to reach the stratospheric standards Brian Wilson has previously set himself.