At Queen Elizabeth Theatre on Monday, August 29

If you read the preshow press surrounding Brian Wilson's Smile extravaganza, you'd be at a loss as to what to expect from the maestro as he hit the stage. While the man created some of the most personal, heartfelt, and succinct music ever to hit the pop charts, his interviews make him seem as mentally unbalanced as ever. It was nice, then, to see him doing what he does best: sharing his musical gift with the fans.

You could easily title Wilson's current jaunt the Personal Vindication Tour. After the Beach Boy founder abandoned work on 1967's Smile, it appeared that what was supposed to be the Californian's masterwork would never be heard apart from ragtag bootlegs. The startling issue of the completed Smile, then, brought joy to music lovers the world over last year. Despite ominous digital flourishes that take away the analogue warmth of albums like Pet Sounds, the disc showcases a set of songs that musicians today would kill for.

From the moment Wilson hit the stage on Monday, the night was his for the taking. Rapturous followers came in all shapes and sizes. Families both young and old, assorted hipsters, and rock scholars were all ready to surrender to a genius at work. And if there was any doubt of Wilson's legacy, the audience was reminded by hit after hit. The almost sold-out crowd ate up every note.

Seated front and centre with a keyboard flanked by two TelePrompTers, Wilson radiated a mellow vibe, clearly enjoying the warm reception. A versatile 19-piece backing band bolstered his singing and respectfully brought the vintage material to life. While "Surfer Girl" and "In My Room" raised goose bumps, "California Girls" and the 1965 Crystals interpolation "Then I Kissed Her" made the venue feel like a sweating-to-the-oldies infomercial.

After a short intermission, Smile was performed in all its glory. Assisted by the band's musical director, Darian Sahanaja, the collective floated through the tracks with ease, hitting its stride during a second passage that began with the harpsichord-powered "Wonderful". Theatrics and stage effects on "Mrs. O'Leary's Cow" provided an acid-lite facsimile for all in attendance, giving a glimpse into the drug-addled chaos that Brian succumbed to in the '60s.

If two sets and an encore proved anything, it's that the fragile tunesmith knows how to please his fans. After all these years, it's great to see that Wilson is feeling good vibrations once again.