Steve Braunias' glowing tribute to Wilson Phillips' third album

Wilson Phillips singing trio Chynna Phillips, Carnie and Wendy Wilson. Photo / Getty Images

Wilson Phillips! No, they're not really hot right now and, in the pantheon of girl bands, they weren't quite as successful as the Spice Girls, All Saints, Fifth Harmony, The Supremes, Destiny's Child, The Bangles, Little Mix, En Vogue, The Ronettes, Sister Sledge, Bananarama, The Veronicas or Black Pink, although in New Zealand they were up there with When the Cat's Away. But all I'm listening to these days is one of their albums.

Wilson Phillips were Chynna Phillips, daughter of Michelle Philllips from The Mamas & the Papas; and Carnie and Wendy Wilson, daughters of Brian Wilson from The Beach Boys. They had a massive number one hit around the world in 1990 with Hold On and it was all kind of basically downhill from there. But their 2004 album, California, is a smooth, timeless masterpiece.

Wilson Phillips can claim bits and pieces of contemporary relevance. They sang backing vocals on FourFiveSeconds, that interesting 2015 hit by Rihanna with Kanye West and Paul McCartney. When I mentioned Wilson Phillips to my girlfriend, she started singing Hold On because the group perform it at the end of Bridesmaids (2011, which is vaguely contemporary). Also, Chynna Phillips' husband's brother is the father of the woman who is married to Justin Bieber. But their legacy, their great artistic statement, dates back to 2004.

Wilson Phillips broke up in 1992 and made their covers album California to mark their reunion. Then they broke up again but reunite every now and then for special appearances and they made another covers album, Dedication, in 2017. I've heard a bit of that on YouTube and it's okay. But California is immaculate, a sunny, glowing tribute to 60s and 70s pop that doesn't sound in the slightest like 60s and 70s pop; it sounds like a 21st-century professional corporation dedicated to reassembling a museum piece with new technology, sampling Linda Ronstadt on You're No Good and finessing Go Your Own Way into a slow, dreamy ballad.

Wilson Phillips have a history of damage. Chynna battled drug and alcohol dependency issues (Hold On is about her recovery through AA), Carnie has had a lifelong problem with obesity (she underwent gastric bypass surgery and broadcast it online), Wendy seems all good, although Rolling Stone reported last year, "Through therapy, all three girls discovered long-repressed trauma from their childhoods, spurred mostly by the mental-health and addiction issues of their famous fathers." But California is the least demonic album ever made.

Wilson Phillips worked hard for their success and nothing got handed to them on a plate. They used to sit around as teenagers in Wendy's bedroom and practise harmonies over and over and over. Meanwhile Chynna's half-sister, TV actress Mackenzie Phillips, was sleeping with her father John Phillips, according to her shocking 2009 memoir, High on Arrival. Family have rubbished her claims she and her father were in a 10-year consensual incestuous relationship – with the exception of Chynna, who states that she believes her. But it's not anything I think about when I listen to Chynna singing one of the best tracks on California, Monday Monday, the 1966 The Mamas & the Papas hit written by John Phillips.

Wilson Phillips are still hanging on in there, three good singers who make great harmony pop. Chynna and Carnie are 52, Wendy is 51. They're wives and mums and Christians and that kind of decency operates all throughout California. They appeared on the 2015 Rihanna hit at Kanye West's invitation; he said to them, "When I think of authenticity and I think of angelic, I think of you." On the title track California, written by Joni Mitchell in 1971, they strip the song of its lusts and longings and give it a sense of calmness and goodness, harmonising about their home sunshine state with a peaceful, easy feeling.

"I'm your biggest fan," sings Wendy on lead vocals. She could be singing about cornflakes. There's no depth, no edge, no long-repressed traumas. But I love it to pieces, and all of New Zealand did, too. Although the album only got as far as 35 on the US charts, it went to number one here and in my house that's where it stays, top of the pops, past hits blending into the present, the best covers album ever made, all polished, clean, tangy surfaces, a strange and shimmering work of art.