Gettin' In Over My Head

1	How Could We Still Be Dancin’ / Elton John
2	Soul Searchin’ / Carl Wilson
3	You’ve Touched Me
4	Gettin’ in Over My Head
5	City Blues / Eric Clapton
6	Desert Drive
7	A Friend Like You / Paul McCartney
8	Make a Wish
9	Rainbow Eyes
10	Saturday Morning in the City
11	Fairy Tale
12	Don’t Let Her Know She’s an Angel
13	The Waltz

Barnes & Noble

Given Brian Wilson's, shall we say, fragile state, fans tend to await any new material from the onetime pop wunderkind by holding their collective breath. The response to this, Wilson's first studio recording in more than five years, is likely to be a sigh of relief. With the help of an all-star collection of collaborators, the man behind the Beach Boys has crafted a set that lives up to -- and, on songs like the creamy "Desert Drive," conjures up images of -- his daunting back catalog. Unlike some of his earlier solo offerings, Gettin in Over My Head finds Wilson testing the limits of his comfort zone, rocking out with surprising abandon on "City Blues," which is further enlivened by some no-frills soloing by Eric Clapton, and easily segueing back into high school angst mode on the Van Dyke Parks–penned "The Waltz." Some of the collaborations work better than others -- Elton John helps kick "How Could We Still Be Dancin' " into a "Crocodile Rock"–like groove, but Paul McCartney adds little more than a thin coating of cheese to "A Friend like You." The disc's best moments are those where Wilson stands alone, exuding a childlike innocence that imparts genuine poignancy to songs like "Saturday Morning in the City" -- a slice of wistful pop that could've appeared on Sunflower -- and the R&B-styled "Soul Searchin'," which features an archival vocal turn from his late brother, Carl. Don't believe the doubting tenor of that title; for the first time in ages, Brian Wilson sounds like he's standing -- or even dancing -- on solid ground. David Sprague

All Music Guide

Brian Wilson's spotted solo career hasn't seen many highlights. True, Beach Boys fanatics continue to follow his top-this solo tours, which began with the astonishment of merely seeing Wilson perform on-stage and crested with his live run-throughs of the Beach Boys classic Pet Sounds and the legendary Smile (which he'd disavowed on several earlier occasions). As Brian Wilson concertgoers know, although Wilson remains a bundle of nerves while performing, he has found a group of players who are sympathetic to the Brian Wilson legend and also capable of faithfully re-creating the sound of Beach Boys classics. (Credit also goes to the album's recorder and mixer, Mark Linett, who has fine-tuned every single original Beach Boys track as part of Capitol's ongoing reissue campaigns, dating back to the late '80s.) Wilson has still not found a lyrical collaborator who can stand up to him when he writes inane, sophomoric lyrics; whether it's a solo composition or one written with a talented collaborator like Andy Paley, Wilson's songs are trite and rarely delivered with any confidence or evidence of a performing personality. There are two clear highlights on this record. The first is "Soul Searchin'," a Wilson/Paley collaboration from the early '90s that featured a vocal from brother Carl Wilson. (Although Carl died in 1996, Brian built around the vocal track to complete the song.) Although Carl is singing inane lyrics, his soul and emotion rescue the song. That's exactly how Brian Wilson flourished during his salad days, and it's never been more clear that he lacks it now -- "it" being not only musical collaborators, but lyrical collaborators and a lead voice that understands the archetypal emotion behind his teenage symphonies. The other highlight is the title track, a derivative yet beautiful gloss on the classic Pet Sounds style and a rare track where Brian sounds involved and not simply robotic. John Bush