Brian Wilson has been many things to many people over the course of his life and career. He has been described most famously, perhaps, as those intertwined bookends of psychological assessment, genius and burnout. At the height of his career, in the mid-1960s, he was the dynamic songwriter who drove the Beach Boys to create the California dream, who fought month after month for chart supremacy with the Beatles, and who wrote many of the decade’s most enduring melodies. At the ebb of his career--and there are many points to choose from--he was a basket case, his ability to communicate exhausted, his powers of song craft vanished. For several years, Wilson was thought to be on the short list of 60s icons who were in death’s waiting room.

And then, just when it looked like he really was on his way out, Wilson pulled back from the edge. In the early 1980s, Wilson changed his lifestyle, dropped the excessive weight which was the most immediate threat to his health, and underwent an intensive, controversial therapeutic regimen. By the end of the decade, Wilson had released the solo album that no one thought he’d ever live (or be motivated) to create, and by the middle 1990s, he had resumed a semi-active recording and touring career. Amazing.

By the late 1990s, Brian Wilson was touring with impressive Los Angeles group the Wondermints (Brian Wilson fanatics, all) as his backing band, and in January 2002, he released a live album of one of their club performances. As warmly as his performances had been received by his fans and his critics, many Wilson devotees (myself included) stayed away, feeling that there was no way that the man could do justice to his creations, no matter how well intentioned. After all, we’ve all heard his fractured speaking style in interviews, as well as his rougher voice, the result of natural aging and years of smoking. How could Brian Wilson, pushing 60 years of age, recreate the songs he sang in his healthier, more innocent days?

But no one is made of stone. I finally broke down and gave Live at the Roxy Theater a listen, and I was surprised. This was more than a relief. Wilson was not the semi-catatonic performer I’d feared, and the songs were not massacred by a ravaged voice; rather, they were performed by a passionate band, and the surprisingly strong vocals of Wilson anchored the mix. This was not the car crash that I had worried about. This was the comeback kid of rock’n’roll, stepping up for his second act.

The album kicks off with a song from 1965, “The Little Girl I Once Knew,” and from the opening notes, it is apparent that this is not the ramshackle performance many might have predicted. (Truth be told, the Beach Boys of the 1960s were not particularly noted for their powerful performances, Brian having stopped touring with them by 1965, and none of the other members having been particularly gifted with their instruments. The Wondermints, on the other hand, have recreated the crisp, warm, and vibrant sounds that Wilson originated in the studio all those years ago, and their back up vocals are spot on throughout. The other surviving Beach Boys are not missed at all in this concert.) The second song, “This Whole World,” is a lesser known Wilson song, but it is no less passionately performed. In fact, the whole album plays as if it is orchestrated by a man who has found a reason to keep moving forward, rather than dwelling on the past.

Wilson’s shaky vocals show up from time to time, such as on “Don’t Worry Baby,” where he finds trouble hitting the high notes and the sound is somewhat thin. Things perk up, however, with a beautiful version of “California Girls,” which Wilson introduces as “The Beach Boys’ anthem through the years.” The live version, which includes an acapella coda, is arguably tighter than the original record, and it charges the band up for an exciting, rollicking “I Get Around.” One is struck, listening to this string of tunes, just by the sheer volume of songs that Wislon composed in his prime, songs that entered into the very social fabric of America.

There are various other high points throughout the two disc set. The hymnal “In My Room” is performed with sparse instrumentation, accentuating the beautiful harmonies, while the equally exquisite “Surfer Girl” illustrates that Wilson’s voice, especially when he is singing in the lower register, has remarkably retained much of its warmth throughout the years. The Wondermints are given center stage for the two instrumentals from the classic “Pet Sounds” album, “Let’s Go Away For Awhile” and the title track, while Wilson performs a moving tribute to his late brother Carl with “Lay Down Burden.” Of course, no show by a former Beach Boy would feel complete without some of the lighthearted fun of songs like “All Summer Long” and “Barbara Ann,” and Wilson doesn’t disappoint.

Brian Wilson has said in the past that he is a survivor. He has been to the brink of insanity and battled his way back, and he has battled health problems that certainly could have claimed his life. That he chose to tour is amazing in and of itself. That he released such a strong live album is almost beyond believable. But even a cynic like me can’t deny it.