Music: New Vibrations

(2 of 3)

"Since I've been rehearsing, I've been getting pretty relaxed with the music," Wilson says during an interview, nervously optimistic himself just four days away from the first date of the tour (in Ann Arbor, Mich., last Tuesday). "I can probably sing pretty good. I think I'll do a good job." He is speaking in the living room of a house he owns in the Chicago exurb of St. Charles. Though he still spends most of his time in Southern California, he bought the St. Charles home so he could live and work next door to Joe Thomas, a former professional wrestler turned musician who co-produced Wilson's 1998 album, Imagination, and is serving as the music director of Wilson's tour. As such, Thomas is but the latest in a long line of Wilson collaborators and semi-Svengalis (his Billy Ray Cyrus haircut and penchant for tinkly electronic keyboards are cause for concern among some fans).

An ambitious national tour planned for last fall was postponed--"I wasn't emotionally ready" is how Wilson explains the delay--and scaled back to a comparatively gentle schedule: four Midwestern dates this month, followed by five in the Northeast in June and, if all goes well, maybe a few more shows on the West Coast later this year. But why even subject himself to something that in the past has caused him so much discomfort? "Well, for one thing, there's money involved," he says. "And the other reason is, I feel obligated to take my music around and let people hear me." According to Thomas, Wilson is more competitive than he perhaps appears: "Brian is a driven guy. He doesn't want to be perceived as someone who can't do something." Thomas also mentions that Wilson was upset about the disappointing reception for Imagination. Despite generally kind reviews (the consensus, shared here, is that the multitracked vocals, all by Wilson, are stunning but that the music suffers from a rote adult-contemporary sheen), the album debuted weakly at 88 on the Billboard 200 and dropped off quickly. "Brian wanted a No. 1 record," Thomas says. "Not that he was depressed--it more ticked him off than anything."

In person, Wilson is clearly a man who has suffered. When he's not engaged, his face looks blank, even deadened, and when he is engaged, he still seems to be at a slight remove, just around a corner the dimensions of which only he, perhaps, can measure. He speaks and sings out of the side of his mouth, which gives the impression that he has suffered a stroke. In fact it is a function of deafness in his right ear and is something he has done since childhood. While he is attentive to questions and lucid in his answers, being interviewed is not one of his favorite things in the world. He endures this session by guardedly clutching two sofa pillows in front of himself and takes the first opportunity to cut the interview short, leap up and head to his piano, where he is plainly most comfortable and where he says he spends most of his days. He then offers up a lovely Rhapsody in Blue.