Tell me about the songs on I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times.

“They were all done in three days, the whole album. I walked in there and Don Was says,” — he clicks his fingers authoritatively — “ ‘Let’s do this song.’ I knew all the songs anyway but I couldn’t remember the lyrics, right, so he put the lyrics in front of me and blew them up real big, ‘cos I can’t see without my glasses. These giant words like: ‘GET TOGETHER AND DO IT AGAIN!’ It was really great, standing there, singing. I didn’t know what was going on.”

So you had no creative input?

“Right. I was totally at the mercy of my producer.”

What about the Van Dyke Parks record?

“Erm, same thing to him. It’s like being at the mercy of somebody that great.”

But Van Dyke gave the impression that he was quite scared of working with you.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he sneers. “I think he’s jiving you. Don’t believe that for a second. I think he’s telling you a big hype. I know Van Dyke better than that and I think he’s lying to you. He’s looking at you and telling you a dirty lie.”

He claimed he tricked you into singing lead.

“Yeah, he tricked me alright. He sure did, and I listened and saw why he wanted me to do it, ‘cos they’re good: good leads. And he’s going: ‘You’re the best singer in the whole world.’”
Did it represent a healing of the trauma between the two of you over Smile?

“Sure. It sure was.”

Is the ghost laid to rest?

“Not completely, no. But I wish. I’d have hoped for something a little better. I think we can do better.”

‘Desert Drive’ is great.

“Oh, ‘Desert Drive’. Don’t tell me about that.” He appears stunned.

Why?

“Heavy duty, man. I mean, honest to God, it’s enough to jump up. The only time I ever really jumped out of my chair in 30 years was when I heard Andy’s stuff, where Andy was at with him music. It got me off my chair, clapping my hands, moving around, writing songs, y’know? It took 30 years — since Phil Spector’s records — to get that inspiration. So when it comes along you recognise it, you don’t fuck it with, ‘cos it’s the real thing. I don’t want to go [he puts on a whiny voice]: ‘Oh, I’m too scared to work with Andy Paley but I still think he’s great.’ That’s bullshit, too. Being scared of somebody is bullshit, of course.”

So you’re not scared of anyone?

“Erm…” He bangs his glass down hard on the table. “I divide it into two things: Big Brian is not scared of anybody and Little Brian is scared of everybody. So that’s my problem.”

So there are still people out there…

“…that I can’t deal with. Absolutely, in any way at all.”

Anyone we can talk about?

“Yeah, you,” he abruptly switches from seriousness to silliness. “You are the man of the hour, you’re the interviewer.”

Van Dyke says he wants to do an album of cover versions with you.

“Nah, he’s lying to you. Oh no… standards, you mean? Oh yeah. Well, we’re not gonna do that ‘til next year, maybe October or November. But I’m gonna go crazy, I’m slowly losing my fucking mind over these new projects. But what the fuck — it’s what you should do.”

You seem to have so many things on the boil at the moment.

“Yeah, I’ve got a few things going on, but my brain is totally bombarded, y’know? Calls from people, thoughts of people, voices in my head. I’ve gotten into a spin here a little bit, y’know?”

You’re feeling pretty stressed out by it all?

“Yeah.”

It’s weird: nothing for seven years, then two albums in two months…

“And, of course, my solo career isn’t doing too well until we find out what the fuck’s going on with the sales. I’d be glad if we sold 20 records,” he jokes, distancing himself from real concern. “I don’t care. Twenty-five records! Wow! Your album’s sold 25 records.”

I think you’re doing a bit better than that.

“Thing is, would you buy a record if you liked it? Do you buy records when you hear them on the radio? Do you actually go to a store and buy a record? You do? We do the same thing, my wife and I, we buy Willie Nelson records.”

What’ve you listened to recently?

“Willie Nelson. He’s our Featured Artist.”

So you’re into Country now?

“Oh yeah. Wow, that’s another story there.”

Why?

“I dunno. It makes me laugh. Ha ha ha ha,” he chuckles fakely. “Oh boy.”

Andy says you’re undecided which material is for your solo career and which is for The Beach Boys?

“Well, we’ve already gone through that shit with Melinda and David. The Beach Boys are out. The Beach Boys are being assholes to me. So I take the lesser of two evils; I’ll work on my own, solo, before I work with a bunch of guys that don’t give a shit about me.”

Why are they being assholes to you, Brian?

“Why? Well, there’s probably five or six real good reasons why they don’t like me. One is they’re jealous. Two: erm, they’re assholes. Three: they’re too businessmen and too businesslike. And four: there’s no respect. They have no respect for me. They just spit at me and kick me, no respect at all. I say, ‘Well, fuck it then!’ “ He’s really wound up now.

Even Carl’s doing this to you?

“Carl is my brother, but Carl is an asshole. I love Carl, I love his singing, but he’s an asshole to me. Those guys are assholes. I oughta beat the hell out of them all. I dunno, I’d probably get beat up if I tried that.”

You reckon?

“I’d get beat to hell. Mike would beat me. I couldn’t handle that — he’s very bulky, strong, he’d beat the hell out of me!”

Al’s quite small, you could have a go with him.

“Al’s cool, man. He’s not too good a singer, but he’s a pretty nice man.”