The first thing that needs to be pointed out is that “Afro-Latino Music” is not an overview of the entire subject of Afro-Latino music, nor does it claim to be. It would doubtless take many, many more than 2 DVD’s to do justice to a topic that broad. What this is, however, is a set of two discs comprising two very fine films on very specific topics within the overall category of Afro-Latino (specifically Afro-South American) music, one on a Colombian phenomenon originally known as Terapia Criolla, but now more often referred to as champeta, the other on the Peruvian percussionist Chocolate Algendones.
The first film, “Sons Of Bemkos” - the title refers to an African King who was forced into slavery in Colombia; he escaped and founded the “first free town in America”, Palenque, in and near which much of the film was shot - looks at a couple aspects of African-rooted music located along the Caribbean coast of Colombia. Thus, the marimba-based music known as currulao is not covered, since that genre is centered on the Pacific coast of Colombia. In both cases, however, we are confronted with a musical tradition that is very deeply rooted in Africa, owing relatively little to the Spanish colonists of Colombia.
Interestingly, this description fits not only the traditional music of the area, but its contemporary pop form as well, about which more below. The traditional village music has a very deep African flavor. We see workers in the fields singing work songs to pass the time. A group of professional mourners known as “Happy Ambulances” help a corpse on its way by singing, dancing, and drumming over it, as part of a ritual based on the spirit religion known as lumbalu. (A warning for the squeamish - the actual corpse is on-screen for an extended period.) Small ensembles are shown consisting entirely of voices backed by percussion instruments - drums, scrapers, maracas, claves, and the giant bass thumb piano known as the marimbula. These scenes of a local music little known to the outside would alone justify multiple viewings of this film.
But the filmmakers have another surprise up their sleeve. For many years, the popular sounds of this area long included merengue, salsa, and the whole gamut of Afro-Caribbean styles. However, in a phenomenon not known (by me, at least) to have occurred elsewhere in Afro-Latino musical circles, the musicians of the nearest large city, Cartagena, began to alter their music under the influence of recordings of soukous and other African dance music imported from the Congo. Similarly, the local music known as bullerengue also began to be combined with mbaqanga music from South Africa. The musicians of the area re-Africanized their popular music to such an extent that someone hearing this music - Terapia Criolla (“Creole Therapy”) or champeta - for the first time, watching people dance to it as it booms from the speakers of a mobile sound system, might well question which continent’s music one is hearing.
The film introduces us to the Caribbean Stars, who claim to have been the first to play terapia. The band toured internationally at one time, but feels most comfortable around Palenque. We also see the beginnings of the commercial exploitation of champeta, as record companies attempt to operate as inexpensively as possible by bringing into the studios raw talent off the streets to sing about the everyday life of poor people, to the beat of Congolese rhythms.
We also see excerpts from the San Basilio Festival, a patronal festival held every June 12, a 3-day reunion of Palenqueans past and present. We see Cuban -influenced music played for a Roman Catholic church service, as well as a procession with a small version of the ubiquitous Latin American brass band. It makes for a fascinating contrast to the lumbalu and champeta scenes, and is every bit as authentic.
“Sons of Bemkos” has an English narration, with subtitles for the interviews, which are in Spanish. The running time is 52 minutes.
The second film, “Hands Of God”, focuses on a specific musician, a musical icon in his own country but little-known to Americans, percussionist Julio “Chocolate” Algendones (1937-2004; some sources say 1934). But it also serves to introduce Americans to a musical scene most of us either only recently became aware of or have yet to discover - that of Afro-Peruvian music. Those of us of a certain age have become so used to the “Andean ensembles” playing huaynos on instruments such as the quena, zampona, and charango that we’ve come to think of them as representing ALL of Peruvian music. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Jazz fans have begun to discover Afro-Peruvian rhythms such as the festejo and lando, thanks in part to singer Susana Baca. And it would appear from this film that Afro-Peruvian rhythms and jazz have a close and comfortable relationship in Peru as well, judging from Chocolate’s performances with the combo Peru Jazz and in back of the singing of a number of guest artists in this film, such as Jose “Chaqueta” Piaggio and Pepita Garcia Miro. Chocolate was skilled and sensitive to easily travel between the worlds of tradition and contemporary music.
But the Afro-rooted traditions Algendones explored were not solely Peruvian. He was a master of both the congas and bongos, both associated with Caribbean music, and claims to have picked up a knowledge of the intense rhythms of santeria while on tour in Haiti. (I confess I had to do a bit of research on this point. My impression was that the Yoruba-rooted spirit religion known as santeria (or lucumi) was found in the Spanish Caribbean, specifically Cuba and Puerto Rico. Most of the sources I checked seemed to confirm that there was no santeria in Haiti. I was beginning to wonder if Algendones was confusing Cuban santeria with Fon/Ewe-rooted Haitian voodoo. Digging deeper, however, I find there are a few online sources that would seem to confirm the contention that santeria does indeed exist in Haiti.) Algendones is considered to have been the only Afrfo-Peruvian musician to utilize santeria rhythms in his music, which he did with authenticity and artistic authority.
But Chocolate’s primary instrument was the cajon, that increasingly-familiar wooden box which percussionists sit on, pounding our rhythms on the front of the instrument. Cubans sometimes claim the cajon as their own, and indeed many Cubans have mastered the deceptively simple-looking instrument. However, most sources that I’ve come across are quick to credit Peru as the true origin point of the cajon. Certainly, a concept as elemental as banging out a rhythm on a fruit crate or shipping box could well have developed independently in two different places. But at the very least, the cajon has achieved a position of prominence in Peru far beyond its role in Cuban music. It’s a treat to watch Algendones play the cajon, as he doesn’t pound on it as so many lesser drummers do, but deftly manipulates it with his powerful fingertips.
Jose “Chocolate” Algendones was such a unique percussionist, from the cross-cultural way in which he combined various rhythms into a fully-formed and unique style, to the seemingly casual ease of his complex performance technique, that we are indeed very fortunate to have this audio-visual documentation of his playing in a wide variety of contexts. There is no narration per se, but the interviews are in Spanish, with easily readable English subtitles. Running time is 54 minutes.
Both of these films are required viewing for anyone interested in African-rooted musics in South America and should have as much appeal to just plain fans as to scholars. More info may be found at http://www.AfricanDisaporaDVD.com
Showing posts with label documentary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label documentary. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
“Wheedle’s Groove: Seattle’s Forgotten Soul Of The 1960s and ‘70’s (Cinewax)
It seems popular music is much more homogeneous in the 21st century than it was through much of the 20th. There used to be many more local/regional scenes than there are now. You used to be able to tell which records came from Memphis, or Miami, or South Texas, just to name a few of these scenes. Some of the old regional-music scenes going back over a half-century struggle to survive, but survive they do, such as swamp-pop from Southwestern Louisiana, or beach music from the Carolinas. A few of these scenes managed to achieve national prominence, even dominance, such as Motown (which often used singers from outside Detroit, but the Funk Brothers backup band who really defined Motown were largely local), San Francisco psychedelia, or New York-style doo-wop.
But then there were scenes which - important as they may have been to the locals - never attracted attention outside their area. Go-go music from Washington, D.C. comes to mind. Cleveland sure seemed like a hot rock town in the 60’s, provided you lived close to the Lake Erie shoreline, that is. And, as this documentary DVD illustrates, there was a lot of great soul music in Seattle in the 1960’s and 70’s. Seattle? Soul music? Yes, indeed. But hardly anyone outside the area, including myself, had any inkling that something special was happening there. The Pacific Northwest - Oregon/Washington/Idaho - had already spawned the Ventures, the Wailers, the Kingsmen, the Sonics, Paul Revere and the Raiders, etc, but that wasn’t specific to one city, and for that matter nearby Tacoma was more significant to that scene than Seattle was. Grunge, of course, came out of Seattle as the 80’s gave way to the 90’s, but that was hardly soul music, either, though a few Seattle rock musicians are shown in the film saying nice things about what happened before their era. Let’s face it, you just don’t think of Seattle as being a hotbed for black music of any kind.
Nonetheless, during the 1940’s in particular, Seattle was a jumping jazz town. Both Ray Charles and Quincy Jones spent important developmental years in Seattle. The producers of “Wheedle’s Groove” (the “wheedle” being the mascot of the Space Needle, used to symbolize Seattle as a whole) were fortunate enough to get Quincy Jones to give his insights on the Seattle scene as it was during and after World War II. In more recent years, Sir Mix-a-Lot (who also participates in this film) has represented Seattle on the national urban-music scene.
But our primary concern here is the golden era of soul and funk. Sadly, hardly any footage of black Seattle bands from this period exists, which would seem to bode ill for a documentary film focusing on unknown artists.. (There IS a brief clip of a group called the Majestics, who are otherwise hardly mentioned here.) But by combining old still photos, shots of record labels, a number of audio tracks of several of the relatively few 45’s recorded by Seattle soul and funk bands (not one of which will sound familiar to anyone from the “outside”), and extensive modern-day interviews with many of the significant musicians active on the scene, director Jennifer Maas has come up with a compelling and both visually and musically satisfying document of a scene that was ill-served by those people who really should have taken the time to document it while it was happening.
We get to hear excerpts of 45’s by such local stars as the Black On White Affair, Cold Bold and Together, Ron Buford with singer Ural Thomas, Patrinell Staten (whose “Little Love Affair”, became a British cult favorite decades after the fact), Cookin’ Bag, Robbie Hill’s Family Affair. All these artists may now be heard on Youtube, by the way, though without the context, discussions, and interviews provided by the film. Only one superstar emerged from the scene, one Kenneth Gorelick, known to the world as Kenny G, who has wonderful things to say in the film about the experience he gained by being a member of Cold, Bold and Together. Humorously, Kenny G credits the rainy Seattle weather with keeping him inside the house to practice. CB&T also featured keyboardist Philip Woo, who remains a known quantity on the international jazz scene to this day.
As the film describes, the scene was a healthy one for several years, with a lot of work for everyone, albeit not necessarily well-paying. There was also a lot of cooperation among musicians, which is always conducive to creativity. Local radio station KYAC was strongly supportive of the scene, not generally the case with local radio in more recent times. (Several excerpts of an interview with DJ Robert Nesbitt add very insightful comments on the scene..) The fan support was strong, also. So, while no one became rich or famous at the time, the consensus seems to be that it was a great time and place to be a musician. White and Asian musicians (such as Gorelick and Woo) were reradily accepted - if they could play - despite the influence of the Black Panther Party on the scene. The clubs, however, were more segregated. The lack of gigs in white clubs no doubt worked against the bands’ greater acceptance and financial rewards. Another factor working against the bands is that Seattle was not a media center, and the bands couldn’t afford to promote their record themselves outside the area.
Quincy Jones and Jimi Hendrix had to leave Seattle before even attempting to “make it”. In fact, Black on White Affair did manage to contact Quincy through his brother, but nothing came of it. Ural Thomas signed with Uni, once again with no breakthrough in the offing. Indeed, it seems the mere process of trying to break out of Seattle was the downfall of a few bands. Disagreements among members didn’t help, either, then disco nailed the lid on the coffin. The more people wanted to dance to recorded music, the less work there was for live bands. The fact that Seattle’s economy took a nosedive in the dark years between Boeing’s downturn and the birth of the high-tech industry led to hard times for music as well.
Several of the participants talk about what happened to their lives . Patrinell Staten Wright became successful in gospel music, others became teachers, musicians, and white- and blue-collar workers. The scene evaporated, but thanks to this DVD, it lives on in memory, in photos, and on those precious 45-RPM records. After a long fallow period, a CD compilation of a few of those 45’s sparked renewed interest in the Seattle soul and funk scene, which eventually set the wheels in motion for the production of this film. A number of the original Seattle soul musicians got together to play at the CD release party, sounding as fine and funky as they did 30-40 years earlier. We get to see excerpts from their modern-day concerts and recording sessions. If I have a complaint about the DVD, it’s that more performances, and at full-length, should have been included, if not in the film, in the extras. (I should mention that the recording engineer who has helped preserve these new performances is the same man who recorded
many of the originals, Kearney Barton, who also recorded the Kingsmen and the Sonics back in the day. He is also interviewed in the film.)
The point is made at the end of the film that the bands featured here are only the tip of the iceberg. A long list of many, many more is shown preceding the final credits. I’ve got my fingers crossed for a Volume 2!
There are a number of deleted scenes, interviews, performances, etc. in addition to the original 87-minute film. The movie has done deservedly very well on the Festival circuit, and is still bering shown on the big screen. But the DVD is available now from http://www.wheedlesgroovemovie.com/ This is the good stuff!
But then there were scenes which - important as they may have been to the locals - never attracted attention outside their area. Go-go music from Washington, D.C. comes to mind. Cleveland sure seemed like a hot rock town in the 60’s, provided you lived close to the Lake Erie shoreline, that is. And, as this documentary DVD illustrates, there was a lot of great soul music in Seattle in the 1960’s and 70’s. Seattle? Soul music? Yes, indeed. But hardly anyone outside the area, including myself, had any inkling that something special was happening there. The Pacific Northwest - Oregon/Washington/Idaho - had already spawned the Ventures, the Wailers, the Kingsmen, the Sonics, Paul Revere and the Raiders, etc, but that wasn’t specific to one city, and for that matter nearby Tacoma was more significant to that scene than Seattle was. Grunge, of course, came out of Seattle as the 80’s gave way to the 90’s, but that was hardly soul music, either, though a few Seattle rock musicians are shown in the film saying nice things about what happened before their era. Let’s face it, you just don’t think of Seattle as being a hotbed for black music of any kind.
Nonetheless, during the 1940’s in particular, Seattle was a jumping jazz town. Both Ray Charles and Quincy Jones spent important developmental years in Seattle. The producers of “Wheedle’s Groove” (the “wheedle” being the mascot of the Space Needle, used to symbolize Seattle as a whole) were fortunate enough to get Quincy Jones to give his insights on the Seattle scene as it was during and after World War II. In more recent years, Sir Mix-a-Lot (who also participates in this film) has represented Seattle on the national urban-music scene.
But our primary concern here is the golden era of soul and funk. Sadly, hardly any footage of black Seattle bands from this period exists, which would seem to bode ill for a documentary film focusing on unknown artists.. (There IS a brief clip of a group called the Majestics, who are otherwise hardly mentioned here.) But by combining old still photos, shots of record labels, a number of audio tracks of several of the relatively few 45’s recorded by Seattle soul and funk bands (not one of which will sound familiar to anyone from the “outside”), and extensive modern-day interviews with many of the significant musicians active on the scene, director Jennifer Maas has come up with a compelling and both visually and musically satisfying document of a scene that was ill-served by those people who really should have taken the time to document it while it was happening.
We get to hear excerpts of 45’s by such local stars as the Black On White Affair, Cold Bold and Together, Ron Buford with singer Ural Thomas, Patrinell Staten (whose “Little Love Affair”, became a British cult favorite decades after the fact), Cookin’ Bag, Robbie Hill’s Family Affair. All these artists may now be heard on Youtube, by the way, though without the context, discussions, and interviews provided by the film. Only one superstar emerged from the scene, one Kenneth Gorelick, known to the world as Kenny G, who has wonderful things to say in the film about the experience he gained by being a member of Cold, Bold and Together. Humorously, Kenny G credits the rainy Seattle weather with keeping him inside the house to practice. CB&T also featured keyboardist Philip Woo, who remains a known quantity on the international jazz scene to this day.
As the film describes, the scene was a healthy one for several years, with a lot of work for everyone, albeit not necessarily well-paying. There was also a lot of cooperation among musicians, which is always conducive to creativity. Local radio station KYAC was strongly supportive of the scene, not generally the case with local radio in more recent times. (Several excerpts of an interview with DJ Robert Nesbitt add very insightful comments on the scene..) The fan support was strong, also. So, while no one became rich or famous at the time, the consensus seems to be that it was a great time and place to be a musician. White and Asian musicians (such as Gorelick and Woo) were reradily accepted - if they could play - despite the influence of the Black Panther Party on the scene. The clubs, however, were more segregated. The lack of gigs in white clubs no doubt worked against the bands’ greater acceptance and financial rewards. Another factor working against the bands is that Seattle was not a media center, and the bands couldn’t afford to promote their record themselves outside the area.
Quincy Jones and Jimi Hendrix had to leave Seattle before even attempting to “make it”. In fact, Black on White Affair did manage to contact Quincy through his brother, but nothing came of it. Ural Thomas signed with Uni, once again with no breakthrough in the offing. Indeed, it seems the mere process of trying to break out of Seattle was the downfall of a few bands. Disagreements among members didn’t help, either, then disco nailed the lid on the coffin. The more people wanted to dance to recorded music, the less work there was for live bands. The fact that Seattle’s economy took a nosedive in the dark years between Boeing’s downturn and the birth of the high-tech industry led to hard times for music as well.
Several of the participants talk about what happened to their lives . Patrinell Staten Wright became successful in gospel music, others became teachers, musicians, and white- and blue-collar workers. The scene evaporated, but thanks to this DVD, it lives on in memory, in photos, and on those precious 45-RPM records. After a long fallow period, a CD compilation of a few of those 45’s sparked renewed interest in the Seattle soul and funk scene, which eventually set the wheels in motion for the production of this film. A number of the original Seattle soul musicians got together to play at the CD release party, sounding as fine and funky as they did 30-40 years earlier. We get to see excerpts from their modern-day concerts and recording sessions. If I have a complaint about the DVD, it’s that more performances, and at full-length, should have been included, if not in the film, in the extras. (I should mention that the recording engineer who has helped preserve these new performances is the same man who recorded
many of the originals, Kearney Barton, who also recorded the Kingsmen and the Sonics back in the day. He is also interviewed in the film.)
The point is made at the end of the film that the bands featured here are only the tip of the iceberg. A long list of many, many more is shown preceding the final credits. I’ve got my fingers crossed for a Volume 2!
There are a number of deleted scenes, interviews, performances, etc. in addition to the original 87-minute film. The movie has done deservedly very well on the Festival circuit, and is still bering shown on the big screen. But the DVD is available now from http://www.wheedlesgroovemovie.com/ This is the good stuff!
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
“Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” (First Run Features)
I’m always a bit confounded whenever music fans of my own (baby-boomer) generation, including many whom I feel should know better, fail to recognize the name “Phil Ochs” when I mention it. Certainly, I’ve given up expecting anyone under the age of 40 to have heard of him. But baby boomers? Come on, this man was (in my opinion, to be sure, but I’m far from alone) the greatest singer-songwriter to come out of the 1960’s following the emergence of Bob Dylan. It seems the enormous shadow of Dylan has long since dwarfed such once-vaunted figures as Bob Lind (whose new DVD will be reviewed soon), Eric Anderson, David Blue, Fred Neil, David Ackles, Patrick Sky, and the various Tims (Hardin, Rose, and Buckley), to such an overwhelming extent that even Tom Paxton and, yes, Phil Ochs do not have anywhere near the name recognition value that they deserve.
Nevertheless, Phil Ochs still has a considerable following, albeit a specialized one, but large enough that the theatrical release of Kenneth Bowser’s biographical documentary “Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” in 2010 was hailed as a major event among us old-folkie types. With the film’s release on DVD taking place this week, everyone can now see what all the fuss was about. This is one marvelous piece of work, a loving, skillfully-assembled, no-holds-barred portrait of a man who was misunderstood by so many people, including himself. It’s a tragic story, a tale of disillusionment, mental illness, alcoholism, dashed hopes, unfulfilled dreams, and eventual suicide, but one with a brilliant soundtrack of poetic lyrics, memorable melodies, and a one-of-a-kind voice.
Bowser has Included a wealth of interview clips, including many of the people closest to Phil Ochs - family (Phil’s famous photo archivist brother, Michael Ochs, who was one of this film’s producers; Phil’s well-known folk-music disc jockey sister and keeper of the Phil Ochs flame, Sonny Ochs; Phil’s wife and daughter), close friends (most notably Jim Glover of Jim and Jean, who was responsible for politicizing Ochs), musical associates (including early supporter Pete Seeger, Peter Yarrow, Judy Henske, Van Dyke Parks, Lincoln Mayorga, Joan Baez - who recorded the best-known version of Ochs’ song “There But For Fortune” - and on film, Dave Van Ronk), political associates (Tom Hayden, Fugs members Ed Sanders among them), record industry associates (Elektra’s Jac Holzman, A&M’s Jerry Moss) - an incredible array of people important to Phil Ochs’ life and career. The result is a well-rounded selection of opinions, reminiscences, and emotional responses, chronologically arranged. One might wish that some of the clips had been longer, but that’s because Ochs himself had such an engrossing life.
It would seem Bowser didn’t miss very much. We hear about Ochs’ upbringing by a Jewish father who came back from World War II mentally unstable and a Scottish mother who refused to hide her unhappiness. We see photos of Phil growing up conservatively in small-town 1950’s America - local readers of this blog may not be aware that some of this growing up took place in nearby Perrysburg, NY, and that Ochs played clarinet at a SUNY Fredonia summer music camp; there’s even a vintage still of Gowanda’s Hollywood Theater. We find him dropping out of Ohio State University, discovering his first great political cause in the Civil Rights movement, finding hope in the presidency of John Kennedy, having his illusions shattered by Kennedy’s assassination and America’s increasing involvement in Vietnam. We learn how Ochs was browbeaten by his songwriting role model, Bob Dylan, which did not sidetrack Ochs’ unrealistic but fervent determination to make it big in show-biz through the writing of liberally-oriented (yet hardly doctrinaire) protest songs. As times change, we see him expanding (as did Dylan, of course) into more personal, less purely folk-style songs, moving beyond acoustic guitar backdrops to a more “produced” type of recording. (However, Ochs was not interested in folk-rock, but surrounded his songs with classical and orchestral influences. The results were superb, but decidedly non-commercial.) We follow his increasing involvement with the counter-culture taking unexpected turns, leading street-theater-of-the-absurd demonstrations which celebrated the end of the Vietnam War years before it actual ended. We feel impending disaster as he fatefully becomes involved as a key member of the Yippies and serves as a catalyst in the catastrophic demonstrations at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. We puzzle at his dressing up like Elvis Presley in gold lame for his career-destroying Carnegie Hall concert, which lost him the support of many of his long-term fans. A journey to third world countries leads to a meeting with nueva cancion icon Victor Jara in Chile, two years before the coup against the Allende government and Jara’s execution. His travels also take him to Africa. where Ochs is attacked and robbed in an incident in Tanzania that ruined his vocal cords. All this while, he is increasingly falling victim to bipolar disease, exacerbated by finding far too much solace for his depression in alcohol dependence. His growing combativeness begins to offend even his friends. Eventually, he falls off the deep end mentally, and announces the demise of Phil Ochs, replacing him with an obnoxious alter-ego named John Train. And then come those sad last days of 1976. To sum it up - it’s all here, it’s all examined in some depth, and it’s all put into comprehensible contexts.
We see short video clips and hear audio excerpts of many songs from every stage of Phil Ochs’ career. I find it particularly revealing to hear live performances from after the Tanzanian incident. Yes, his voice has suffered and has lost its consistency. But the voice and style are still recognizably that of Phil Ochs. I truly believe that, if he had been so inclined, he could have continued his career well past this point. But it wasn’t Phil Ochs the singer who had been mutilated, it was Phil Ochs the man.
“Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” is, then, both a celebration of and eulogy for this important 20th-century artist. It would be easy to disparage him for what he became in the 1970’s, but I prefer to remember Phil Ochs as he was in the 1960’s. This film allows for both interpretations, and each viewer may take from it the Phil Ochs they wish to recall. Highest recommendation.
The film runs 97 minutes, plus a text bio of the director, and a photo gallery.
Nevertheless, Phil Ochs still has a considerable following, albeit a specialized one, but large enough that the theatrical release of Kenneth Bowser’s biographical documentary “Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” in 2010 was hailed as a major event among us old-folkie types. With the film’s release on DVD taking place this week, everyone can now see what all the fuss was about. This is one marvelous piece of work, a loving, skillfully-assembled, no-holds-barred portrait of a man who was misunderstood by so many people, including himself. It’s a tragic story, a tale of disillusionment, mental illness, alcoholism, dashed hopes, unfulfilled dreams, and eventual suicide, but one with a brilliant soundtrack of poetic lyrics, memorable melodies, and a one-of-a-kind voice.
Bowser has Included a wealth of interview clips, including many of the people closest to Phil Ochs - family (Phil’s famous photo archivist brother, Michael Ochs, who was one of this film’s producers; Phil’s well-known folk-music disc jockey sister and keeper of the Phil Ochs flame, Sonny Ochs; Phil’s wife and daughter), close friends (most notably Jim Glover of Jim and Jean, who was responsible for politicizing Ochs), musical associates (including early supporter Pete Seeger, Peter Yarrow, Judy Henske, Van Dyke Parks, Lincoln Mayorga, Joan Baez - who recorded the best-known version of Ochs’ song “There But For Fortune” - and on film, Dave Van Ronk), political associates (Tom Hayden, Fugs members Ed Sanders among them), record industry associates (Elektra’s Jac Holzman, A&M’s Jerry Moss) - an incredible array of people important to Phil Ochs’ life and career. The result is a well-rounded selection of opinions, reminiscences, and emotional responses, chronologically arranged. One might wish that some of the clips had been longer, but that’s because Ochs himself had such an engrossing life.
It would seem Bowser didn’t miss very much. We hear about Ochs’ upbringing by a Jewish father who came back from World War II mentally unstable and a Scottish mother who refused to hide her unhappiness. We see photos of Phil growing up conservatively in small-town 1950’s America - local readers of this blog may not be aware that some of this growing up took place in nearby Perrysburg, NY, and that Ochs played clarinet at a SUNY Fredonia summer music camp; there’s even a vintage still of Gowanda’s Hollywood Theater. We find him dropping out of Ohio State University, discovering his first great political cause in the Civil Rights movement, finding hope in the presidency of John Kennedy, having his illusions shattered by Kennedy’s assassination and America’s increasing involvement in Vietnam. We learn how Ochs was browbeaten by his songwriting role model, Bob Dylan, which did not sidetrack Ochs’ unrealistic but fervent determination to make it big in show-biz through the writing of liberally-oriented (yet hardly doctrinaire) protest songs. As times change, we see him expanding (as did Dylan, of course) into more personal, less purely folk-style songs, moving beyond acoustic guitar backdrops to a more “produced” type of recording. (However, Ochs was not interested in folk-rock, but surrounded his songs with classical and orchestral influences. The results were superb, but decidedly non-commercial.) We follow his increasing involvement with the counter-culture taking unexpected turns, leading street-theater-of-the-absurd demonstrations which celebrated the end of the Vietnam War years before it actual ended. We feel impending disaster as he fatefully becomes involved as a key member of the Yippies and serves as a catalyst in the catastrophic demonstrations at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. We puzzle at his dressing up like Elvis Presley in gold lame for his career-destroying Carnegie Hall concert, which lost him the support of many of his long-term fans. A journey to third world countries leads to a meeting with nueva cancion icon Victor Jara in Chile, two years before the coup against the Allende government and Jara’s execution. His travels also take him to Africa. where Ochs is attacked and robbed in an incident in Tanzania that ruined his vocal cords. All this while, he is increasingly falling victim to bipolar disease, exacerbated by finding far too much solace for his depression in alcohol dependence. His growing combativeness begins to offend even his friends. Eventually, he falls off the deep end mentally, and announces the demise of Phil Ochs, replacing him with an obnoxious alter-ego named John Train. And then come those sad last days of 1976. To sum it up - it’s all here, it’s all examined in some depth, and it’s all put into comprehensible contexts.
We see short video clips and hear audio excerpts of many songs from every stage of Phil Ochs’ career. I find it particularly revealing to hear live performances from after the Tanzanian incident. Yes, his voice has suffered and has lost its consistency. But the voice and style are still recognizably that of Phil Ochs. I truly believe that, if he had been so inclined, he could have continued his career well past this point. But it wasn’t Phil Ochs the singer who had been mutilated, it was Phil Ochs the man.
“Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” is, then, both a celebration of and eulogy for this important 20th-century artist. It would be easy to disparage him for what he became in the 1970’s, but I prefer to remember Phil Ochs as he was in the 1960’s. This film allows for both interpretations, and each viewer may take from it the Phil Ochs they wish to recall. Highest recommendation.
The film runs 97 minutes, plus a text bio of the director, and a photo gallery.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
“John Lennon: Rare And Unseen” (MVD)/“Lennonyc” (A&E)
Could there possibly be anything left to learn about John Lennon, any scrap of film or recorded sound not yet seen and/or unavailable to the public on the dozens of other documentaries devoted to former Beatles, anything truly “rare and unseen”? Apparently so.
The MVD DVD “John Lennon: Rare and Unseen” actually collects vintage material that is, yes, rare, but which has been seen. Perhaps only once, 40+ years ago, and not throughout the whole world. In other words, so few people have seen this material (with the possible exception of the David Frost interviews, which have been unavailable up till now on DVD), the title is entirely legitimate. Since the public’s fascination with Everything Lennon continues unabated - every Fall semester, the 18-year-olds in my Freshman Liberal Arts Seminar are quick to identify the Beatles in general and Lennon in particular as one of their “favorite artists” - there would seem to be a ready-made market for both DVD’s under review here. Since the MVD disc more-or-less ends where “Lennonyc” begins (the title is short for “Lennon NYC”, chronicling John’s years in New York City and, despite the title, Los Angeles), they are not in the least incompatible. Although the A&E film (originally shown on PBS” “American Masters” series) is by far the superior product, hard-core Lennon fans will want them both.
“Rare and Unseen” (part of a series of MVD releases under that rubric) is arranged so that it traces the arc of John Lennon’s career up to the early 1970’s, going back to his teen-aged days with the Quarrymen. We meet an insecure, yet irreverent young fellow, lacking confidence, social skills, and the ability to trust people. It is easy to see the roots of the anxiety he always betrayed while addressing the press, which led him to blurt out answers - often treating seriously intended questions in a sarcastic manner - which got him into trouble on numerous occasions. A goodly amount of time is spent here examining his infamous “more popular than Jesus” remark - what he said, what people thought he meant, what he really meant, why people didn’t realize what it was he actually meant, etc. As Beatles’ press officer Tony Barrow puts it, “the words in his brain never did come out right by the time they reached his mouth.” Barrow contends that if John had written his apology in a song, it would have been brilliant, but he had a difficult time explaining his words to journalists.
Though the disc is arranged chronologically, not every major event in the Beatles’ development is addressed, nor is there any intent to do that. The subjects chosen are dependent on what rare, unseen television clips were available. So we skip over some of the Beatles’ finest, most innovative moments to get to the Bed-In for Peace, and John and Yoko’s involvement in the anti-Vietnam War movement as a whole. The Beatles’ managerial difficulties (the Lee Eastman faction, i.e., Paul, vs. the Allen Klein faction); the relationship between John and Paul and what their romantic entanglements may have contributed to the break-up of the Beatles (John denies it was a factor); and John’s involvement with Yoko’s avant-garde art world are among the more prominent matters discussed.
Unfortunately, there is no narration to either tie together the various segments or to serve to transition between clips, or even to explain a bit about the nature of the programs this material came from. To be sure, narrations on a program such as this can often be less than helpful, and a back-cover blurb does supply some of the missing pieces of the puzzle. It might also have been preferable to show the originals in toto, rather than split up by added remarks, as it were. But the commentary, both from the original broadcasts (Desmond Morris’ perspectives are, as one might expect, particularly insightful) and newly-recorded (Steve Harley, ex-Cockney Rebel rock star turned BBC commentator, is quite perceptive) is quite interesting. Besides, the clips are worth seeing, from a purely historical viewpoint, as well as from the eyes of a “true fan” wanting to understand as much as one can about this enigmatic hero.
Hearing all these opinions as well as the Lennon interviews over the course of 75 minutes does give you the illusion at least of understanding this complex and often seemingly contradictory individual a bit better, though he will no doubt continue to elude us forever. There are no musical performances on the disc, but this is less about John Lennon the musician than John Lennon the man. No extras, but there’s certainly enough here to warrant a recommendation..
“Lennonyc”, which takes us inside John Lennon’s world during the 1970’s until his assassination in 1980, is about the man AND the music, with a number of live performances and studio discussions. But it’s the sections on the man that are particularly significant. We begin, not with the beginning, but near the end, with studio chatter from the “Double Fantasy” sessions and interviews with a few of the musicians from that album. We hear a playful, joking John, seemingly at ease with the process of recording after being away from it for several years. But the John Lennon who is revealed to us during the bulk of the film is far less jovial, frequently hostile, eventually becoming a nasty drunk and unproductive drug addict during his L.A. stay, where he comes off as downright unlikable. Then fatherhood changes him. But I’m getting ahead of the story.
John Lennon arrived in New York City full of hope, escaping from years of Beatlemania, and from hounding by the British press who blamed Yoko for the demise of the Beatles. His political stance also got him into trouble at home. No doubt he thought in America he would be freer to express himself, both artistically and politically. But then he finds himself aligned with Chicago Seven activist Rennie Davis, plus Yippies Jerry Rubin and Abbie Hoffman, and the full furor of the Nixon administration falls down upon Lennon’s head. Strom Thurmond convinces Washington that Lennon must be kicked out of the US. The deportation hearings drag on and on, FBI spies follow Lennon at every turn, what would have been an important tour is canceled, despite flimsy evidence that he actually posed a threat to the American way of life. But Lennon’s post-Beatles recordings with Elephant’s Memory, filled as they are with political material, controversial language, and the raw sounds of a Greenwich Village street band accompanying a man who had up until then been playing with the most famous musical ensemble in the world, also fell on uncomprehending ears, damaging his musical reputation and his commercial viability as well.
The frustrations lead to a bout of marital infidelity which led Yoko - who had literally been his constant companion up to this time - to kick him out. Lennon moves to LA, spends his time partying with Keith Moon and Harry Nilsson, two of rock’s most notorious ne’er-do-wells, clashes loudly with producer Phil Spector during the chaotic sessions for the “Rock’n’Roll” LP of oldies covers, acts crazy in public (on the club scene), and screams Yoko’s name. Significantly, a visit by Paul and Ringo found him relaxed and without animosity, but most of his three years in L.A. were pretty disastrous, and he undoubtedly saved his life by returning to NYC.
John returned to New York to straighten his life out and to work on “Walls and Bridges”. The music showed a considerable improvement. We hear John on a 1974 New York radio interview, in which he describes his continuing immigration hassles. But then, John and Yoko reconciled, around the same time that John got his green card, after a 4-1/2-year struggle. His years of faith in the American Dream having paid off, he set off on a new adventure after the birth of his son Sean. While Yoko took care of business, John became a house-husband and full-time father, roles which served to clean him up, settle his mind and body, and taught him to appreciate the more mundane aspects of life. (For example, we get a glimpse of him baking bread.)
Eventually, he realized he can be both father and musician, and set out to record “Double Fantasy,” which he conceived as an alternating showcase for himself and for Yoko. Yoko had always been a source of derision among rock fans, but David Geffen recalls that Lennon heard “Rock Lobster”, and decided the world was finally ready for her.There is a great deal of description of John’s working methods during that album by musicians Earl Slick, Andy Newmark, and Hugh McCracken, plus producer Jack Douglas and critic Robert Hilburn.
The story of Lennon’s murder is told with sirens, news footage, and Geffen’s and Yoko’s memories of how they learned of his death. It’s a story too-well-known, perhaps, to dwell on excessively here, but I found myself wanting more. What exactly I can’t tell you, just more.
Otherwise, there are very few mis-steps here. The interviews, with many people who knew and worked with John (including Elton John), are well-done, the balance of music, visuals, and information is satisfactory, and the whole production thoroughly professional, and certainly worthy of PBS standards. This is the sort of film that gives musical documentaries a good name.
115 minutes, no extras. A must-see.
The MVD DVD “John Lennon: Rare and Unseen” actually collects vintage material that is, yes, rare, but which has been seen. Perhaps only once, 40+ years ago, and not throughout the whole world. In other words, so few people have seen this material (with the possible exception of the David Frost interviews, which have been unavailable up till now on DVD), the title is entirely legitimate. Since the public’s fascination with Everything Lennon continues unabated - every Fall semester, the 18-year-olds in my Freshman Liberal Arts Seminar are quick to identify the Beatles in general and Lennon in particular as one of their “favorite artists” - there would seem to be a ready-made market for both DVD’s under review here. Since the MVD disc more-or-less ends where “Lennonyc” begins (the title is short for “Lennon NYC”, chronicling John’s years in New York City and, despite the title, Los Angeles), they are not in the least incompatible. Although the A&E film (originally shown on PBS” “American Masters” series) is by far the superior product, hard-core Lennon fans will want them both.
“Rare and Unseen” (part of a series of MVD releases under that rubric) is arranged so that it traces the arc of John Lennon’s career up to the early 1970’s, going back to his teen-aged days with the Quarrymen. We meet an insecure, yet irreverent young fellow, lacking confidence, social skills, and the ability to trust people. It is easy to see the roots of the anxiety he always betrayed while addressing the press, which led him to blurt out answers - often treating seriously intended questions in a sarcastic manner - which got him into trouble on numerous occasions. A goodly amount of time is spent here examining his infamous “more popular than Jesus” remark - what he said, what people thought he meant, what he really meant, why people didn’t realize what it was he actually meant, etc. As Beatles’ press officer Tony Barrow puts it, “the words in his brain never did come out right by the time they reached his mouth.” Barrow contends that if John had written his apology in a song, it would have been brilliant, but he had a difficult time explaining his words to journalists.
Though the disc is arranged chronologically, not every major event in the Beatles’ development is addressed, nor is there any intent to do that. The subjects chosen are dependent on what rare, unseen television clips were available. So we skip over some of the Beatles’ finest, most innovative moments to get to the Bed-In for Peace, and John and Yoko’s involvement in the anti-Vietnam War movement as a whole. The Beatles’ managerial difficulties (the Lee Eastman faction, i.e., Paul, vs. the Allen Klein faction); the relationship between John and Paul and what their romantic entanglements may have contributed to the break-up of the Beatles (John denies it was a factor); and John’s involvement with Yoko’s avant-garde art world are among the more prominent matters discussed.
Unfortunately, there is no narration to either tie together the various segments or to serve to transition between clips, or even to explain a bit about the nature of the programs this material came from. To be sure, narrations on a program such as this can often be less than helpful, and a back-cover blurb does supply some of the missing pieces of the puzzle. It might also have been preferable to show the originals in toto, rather than split up by added remarks, as it were. But the commentary, both from the original broadcasts (Desmond Morris’ perspectives are, as one might expect, particularly insightful) and newly-recorded (Steve Harley, ex-Cockney Rebel rock star turned BBC commentator, is quite perceptive) is quite interesting. Besides, the clips are worth seeing, from a purely historical viewpoint, as well as from the eyes of a “true fan” wanting to understand as much as one can about this enigmatic hero.
Hearing all these opinions as well as the Lennon interviews over the course of 75 minutes does give you the illusion at least of understanding this complex and often seemingly contradictory individual a bit better, though he will no doubt continue to elude us forever. There are no musical performances on the disc, but this is less about John Lennon the musician than John Lennon the man. No extras, but there’s certainly enough here to warrant a recommendation..
“Lennonyc”, which takes us inside John Lennon’s world during the 1970’s until his assassination in 1980, is about the man AND the music, with a number of live performances and studio discussions. But it’s the sections on the man that are particularly significant. We begin, not with the beginning, but near the end, with studio chatter from the “Double Fantasy” sessions and interviews with a few of the musicians from that album. We hear a playful, joking John, seemingly at ease with the process of recording after being away from it for several years. But the John Lennon who is revealed to us during the bulk of the film is far less jovial, frequently hostile, eventually becoming a nasty drunk and unproductive drug addict during his L.A. stay, where he comes off as downright unlikable. Then fatherhood changes him. But I’m getting ahead of the story.
John Lennon arrived in New York City full of hope, escaping from years of Beatlemania, and from hounding by the British press who blamed Yoko for the demise of the Beatles. His political stance also got him into trouble at home. No doubt he thought in America he would be freer to express himself, both artistically and politically. But then he finds himself aligned with Chicago Seven activist Rennie Davis, plus Yippies Jerry Rubin and Abbie Hoffman, and the full furor of the Nixon administration falls down upon Lennon’s head. Strom Thurmond convinces Washington that Lennon must be kicked out of the US. The deportation hearings drag on and on, FBI spies follow Lennon at every turn, what would have been an important tour is canceled, despite flimsy evidence that he actually posed a threat to the American way of life. But Lennon’s post-Beatles recordings with Elephant’s Memory, filled as they are with political material, controversial language, and the raw sounds of a Greenwich Village street band accompanying a man who had up until then been playing with the most famous musical ensemble in the world, also fell on uncomprehending ears, damaging his musical reputation and his commercial viability as well.
The frustrations lead to a bout of marital infidelity which led Yoko - who had literally been his constant companion up to this time - to kick him out. Lennon moves to LA, spends his time partying with Keith Moon and Harry Nilsson, two of rock’s most notorious ne’er-do-wells, clashes loudly with producer Phil Spector during the chaotic sessions for the “Rock’n’Roll” LP of oldies covers, acts crazy in public (on the club scene), and screams Yoko’s name. Significantly, a visit by Paul and Ringo found him relaxed and without animosity, but most of his three years in L.A. were pretty disastrous, and he undoubtedly saved his life by returning to NYC.
John returned to New York to straighten his life out and to work on “Walls and Bridges”. The music showed a considerable improvement. We hear John on a 1974 New York radio interview, in which he describes his continuing immigration hassles. But then, John and Yoko reconciled, around the same time that John got his green card, after a 4-1/2-year struggle. His years of faith in the American Dream having paid off, he set off on a new adventure after the birth of his son Sean. While Yoko took care of business, John became a house-husband and full-time father, roles which served to clean him up, settle his mind and body, and taught him to appreciate the more mundane aspects of life. (For example, we get a glimpse of him baking bread.)
Eventually, he realized he can be both father and musician, and set out to record “Double Fantasy,” which he conceived as an alternating showcase for himself and for Yoko. Yoko had always been a source of derision among rock fans, but David Geffen recalls that Lennon heard “Rock Lobster”, and decided the world was finally ready for her.There is a great deal of description of John’s working methods during that album by musicians Earl Slick, Andy Newmark, and Hugh McCracken, plus producer Jack Douglas and critic Robert Hilburn.
The story of Lennon’s murder is told with sirens, news footage, and Geffen’s and Yoko’s memories of how they learned of his death. It’s a story too-well-known, perhaps, to dwell on excessively here, but I found myself wanting more. What exactly I can’t tell you, just more.
Otherwise, there are very few mis-steps here. The interviews, with many people who knew and worked with John (including Elton John), are well-done, the balance of music, visuals, and information is satisfactory, and the whole production thoroughly professional, and certainly worthy of PBS standards. This is the sort of film that gives musical documentaries a good name.
115 minutes, no extras. A must-see.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
“Romantic Warriors: A Progressive Music Saga” (Zeitgeist Media)
Ah, yes, progressive rock - Yes, King Crimson, Genesis during the Peter Gabriel era, ELP. Great stuff back in the 1970’s. But then it petered out, disappearing for all time, never to be heard from again, right?
Not exactly. True, the perceptions most people seem to have of prog-rock is that it was either a moment of glory that was too good to last, or an aberration in the history of rock that went on much too long, depending on one’s personal tastes and open-mindedness. But, as this new documentary readily demonstrates, prog is not only still with us, with hundreds of bands still playing and furthering the music’s artistic capabilities, it is thriving every way except commercially. It is a refreshing examination of an underground music scene built around musicians who are perfectly aware that they’re not on an easy path to fame and fortune, but who continue to play and experiment with the types of music they love because it’s what THEY want to do, not what the suits who run the record industry want them to do.
I am reviewing this off a screener disc of an hour-long edit of the film, which has just begun to appear on Public Television stations across the country, with more stations to be added in the near future. There is also a 95-minute home-DVD version for sale on the producers’ website, http://www.progdocs.com/ProgDocs/BUY_DVD.html I’m unable to tell you what the differences are between the commercial version and the PBS edition, but since this is very much a “good thing”, more of it can only be better. Anyone who loved the Golden Era of prog-rock in its ‘70’s heyday, and has pined for the ”old days” should find either version to be of great interest.
Fans of 70’s prog should likewise be pleased to learn that the creative, experimental spirit of the music is still a major feature of the current crop of bands. We are told early on that the main focus of the American prog scene is along the East Coast, and in fact much of the action was filmed in Baltimore, Bethlehem, PA (at the “Nearfest” festival), and Chapel Hill, NC (at “Prog Day”). But we also learn that Europe and Latin America have remained hotbeds of the music as well. Thus, we get to meet not only a number of American bands (not all from the Eastern US), but also bands from Italy, Sweden, and Mexico. Short performance clips are a highlight of the film. (I actually would have preferred them to be longer, and perhaps there are longer clips on the DVD version; one can only introduce so much unfamiliar music by unfamiliar bands in an hour-long overview.) Names such as D.F.A., Deluge Grandeur, and Cabezas De Cera may mean little to most people (I confess the latter two are new names to me as well), but they are very active gigging and recording bands just waiting their turn to be discovered. And this film is the very means by which fans of classic prog-rock can begin to discover the current crop of bands.
The beginning of the film also offers a brief history of prog dating back to the 1960’s and through the decades since, a section which could be expanded greatly. The long lists of bands from each era and geographical area goes by pretty quickly (get ready to hit the pause button!), and is printed in a size that’s awfully small for many of us aging music lovers. With any luck, this historical overview will be the subject of another film to come. The only participant from the classic-prog era to be directly involved in this film is Gentle Giant guitarist Gary Green, who expresses pride in the fact that there are many bands still carrying on the legacy of Gentle Giant and their 70’s cohorts. And indeed, .Gentle Giant, King Crimson, Soft Machine, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer strike me as the original-prog bands who hold the greatest sway over the current bands spotlighted here. One other observation - much of the current prog would seem to fit in very easily with the jazz-rock fusion scene, had the fusion scene stuck to its original guns - along the lines of, say, Return To Forever - instead of degenerating into commercial/pop and eventually smooth-jazz. I would suggest fans of classic late-60’s/early-70’s jazz-rock should tune in to the PBS showings of the film. They might well discover a few things of interest here. (It is worth noting that a few of the interviewees refer to prog in more general terms, as “progressive music” rather than “progressive rock”).
Along with the performance clips, there are quite a few interview clips with musicians discussing their art, entrepreneurs (record-label operators, club/concert/festival promoters), and media people, all of whom stress, if not always quite so blatantly, the crucially significant point that prog is not a musical genre which will make anyone rich in 2011. This is a scene for people who believe in what they are doing, whose goal is to push their art into ever-newer directions. It is, then, a scene for dreamers, albeit people whose musical dreams and aspirations do not include wealth and world-wide renown. In a world filled with Lady Gagas and Katy Perrys (the sort of pop stars whom Gary Green argues aren’t involved with music at all, but “fashion”), the modern-day prog artist is just that - an artist - and a highly creative one at that.
Be sure to catch this when it shows on your local PBS station. You may well be back for the complete DVD.
Not exactly. True, the perceptions most people seem to have of prog-rock is that it was either a moment of glory that was too good to last, or an aberration in the history of rock that went on much too long, depending on one’s personal tastes and open-mindedness. But, as this new documentary readily demonstrates, prog is not only still with us, with hundreds of bands still playing and furthering the music’s artistic capabilities, it is thriving every way except commercially. It is a refreshing examination of an underground music scene built around musicians who are perfectly aware that they’re not on an easy path to fame and fortune, but who continue to play and experiment with the types of music they love because it’s what THEY want to do, not what the suits who run the record industry want them to do.
I am reviewing this off a screener disc of an hour-long edit of the film, which has just begun to appear on Public Television stations across the country, with more stations to be added in the near future. There is also a 95-minute home-DVD version for sale on the producers’ website, http://www.progdocs.com/ProgDocs/BUY_DVD.html I’m unable to tell you what the differences are between the commercial version and the PBS edition, but since this is very much a “good thing”, more of it can only be better. Anyone who loved the Golden Era of prog-rock in its ‘70’s heyday, and has pined for the ”old days” should find either version to be of great interest.
Fans of 70’s prog should likewise be pleased to learn that the creative, experimental spirit of the music is still a major feature of the current crop of bands. We are told early on that the main focus of the American prog scene is along the East Coast, and in fact much of the action was filmed in Baltimore, Bethlehem, PA (at the “Nearfest” festival), and Chapel Hill, NC (at “Prog Day”). But we also learn that Europe and Latin America have remained hotbeds of the music as well. Thus, we get to meet not only a number of American bands (not all from the Eastern US), but also bands from Italy, Sweden, and Mexico. Short performance clips are a highlight of the film. (I actually would have preferred them to be longer, and perhaps there are longer clips on the DVD version; one can only introduce so much unfamiliar music by unfamiliar bands in an hour-long overview.) Names such as D.F.A., Deluge Grandeur, and Cabezas De Cera may mean little to most people (I confess the latter two are new names to me as well), but they are very active gigging and recording bands just waiting their turn to be discovered. And this film is the very means by which fans of classic prog-rock can begin to discover the current crop of bands.
The beginning of the film also offers a brief history of prog dating back to the 1960’s and through the decades since, a section which could be expanded greatly. The long lists of bands from each era and geographical area goes by pretty quickly (get ready to hit the pause button!), and is printed in a size that’s awfully small for many of us aging music lovers. With any luck, this historical overview will be the subject of another film to come. The only participant from the classic-prog era to be directly involved in this film is Gentle Giant guitarist Gary Green, who expresses pride in the fact that there are many bands still carrying on the legacy of Gentle Giant and their 70’s cohorts. And indeed, .Gentle Giant, King Crimson, Soft Machine, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer strike me as the original-prog bands who hold the greatest sway over the current bands spotlighted here. One other observation - much of the current prog would seem to fit in very easily with the jazz-rock fusion scene, had the fusion scene stuck to its original guns - along the lines of, say, Return To Forever - instead of degenerating into commercial/pop and eventually smooth-jazz. I would suggest fans of classic late-60’s/early-70’s jazz-rock should tune in to the PBS showings of the film. They might well discover a few things of interest here. (It is worth noting that a few of the interviewees refer to prog in more general terms, as “progressive music” rather than “progressive rock”).
Along with the performance clips, there are quite a few interview clips with musicians discussing their art, entrepreneurs (record-label operators, club/concert/festival promoters), and media people, all of whom stress, if not always quite so blatantly, the crucially significant point that prog is not a musical genre which will make anyone rich in 2011. This is a scene for people who believe in what they are doing, whose goal is to push their art into ever-newer directions. It is, then, a scene for dreamers, albeit people whose musical dreams and aspirations do not include wealth and world-wide renown. In a world filled with Lady Gagas and Katy Perrys (the sort of pop stars whom Gary Green argues aren’t involved with music at all, but “fashion”), the modern-day prog artist is just that - an artist - and a highly creative one at that.
Be sure to catch this when it shows on your local PBS station. You may well be back for the complete DVD.
Friday, December 24, 2010
“Jimi Hendrix: Guitar Hero” DVD (Image Entertainment)
Back in the days when rock music still had guitar heroes, when the term referred to lead and solo (generally electric) guitarists who played with greater technical skill, more imagination, and a bolder vision than almost all of their peers, when Guitar Hero meant more than a video game, Jimi Hendrix was the greatest guitar hero of them all. That’s not just me talking, it’s an opinion shared by some of the finest rock musicians ever, many of whom share their memories of Hendrix on this documentary DVD. If you are one of the unconvinced, and even if you are already a true fan, this disc goes far in explaining why, a full forty years after his death, Jimi Hendrix is still idolized by so many musicians and fans alike.
This film would appear to be unauthorized by the Hendrix estate, which might explain why there are only a few snippets of Hendrix in live performance here, with most of the background music consisting of other people’s oldies. I enjoy listening to Hawkwind, Harry Nilsson and Lorraine Ellison (among many others heard here) as much as anyone, but they seem out of place in this context. This to me is the only real negative in this documentary, yet it’s a fairly small one. But the fact that this is most likely unauthorized means that interviewees feel free to speak their minds freely, without censorship. Thus we have, for example, a no-holds-barred look at Hendrix’s drug use, which everyone knows about, but which has rarely been openly discussed in such detail.
The film is narrated by Slash, whose admiration for Jimi Hendrix is well-known, and who seems quite well-versed in Hendrix lore, even though he died when Slash was only five years old. The great bulk of the interviewees, however, are people who knew Hendrix, many of whom played/jammed/associated with him, sharing their memories rather than relating unfounded rumors or hearsay. The musicians interviewed on-camera (mostly in 2009) include Eric Clapton, Eric Burdon, Mick Taylor, Zoot Money, Ginger Baker, Joey Covington, Bev Bevan. Mickey Dolenz, Lemmy, Stephen Stills, Alan White and Chris Squier, Dave Mason, and Paul Rodgers. Important, less publicly known parts to the story are recounted by Hendrix’ longtime English girlfriend, Kathy Etchingham, and his brother Leon Hendrix. Journalist/author Charles Cross adds a great deal of well-considered perspective as well.
Indeed, Leon’s tales of Hendrix’s poverty-filled childhood, raised by alcoholic parents who eventually split up and left the young brothers at the mercy of the Child Welfare system, provide many of the most poignant moments in the film. We learn that the parents’ constant arguing inspired one of Hendrix’ most touching songs, “Castles Made of Sand”. One can only speculate how this upbringing influenced the guitarist’s subsequent lifestyle choices. We hear from several sources that despite his copious drug use and “wild man” on-stage antics, Hendrix off-stage was quiet, polite, reserved, constantly with a guitar in his hand, practicing/rehearsing. Indeed, we are told that many of those on-stage antics were pure show-biz, his version of African-American showmanship that he learned during his apprenticeships with Little Richard, the Isley Brothers, Wilson Pickett, and others. Many of his “stunts”, such as playing the guitar behind his head and with his teeth, were used by earlier generations of blues musicians such as T-Bone Walker (and, I would add, Charlie Patton), but seemed new to the rock audience who hadn’t seen them before. Even his most outrageous moments were calculated, designed to gain maximum publicity, including the infamous guitar-burning/smashing at Monterrey.
We learn of Noel Redding’s jealousy, that rather than thanking his lucky stars that he found himself in an important, highly visible band, he felt he deserved to be “the star”, the guitar player for the band. (He was after all, as he would remind people, the best guitar player in Kent!). It turns out that he actually intended to audition for a guitar opening in the Animals, but that manager (and ex-Animal) Chas Chandler hired Redding as bassist for the Jimi Hendrix Experience even though he had no experience on the instrument. Redding’s dissatisfaction with and bare competence in his role explains why so much of the bass work on “Electric Ladyland” was by Hendrix himself, overdubbing, rather than by Redding. Dave Mason talks about how he came to play the acoustic guitar part on “All Along the Watchtower”, and how Hendrix’ classic solo on that track was actually a combination of three solos, including a slide part played with a cigarette lighter. I suspect much of this material may appear in various printed sources, but it’s nice to have it all in one place, confirmed by people who were there.
Musicians will appreciate the technical discussions of Hendrix’ fingerings, chord formations, sound effects, and amplifier set-ups by Slash, Stills, Covington, and Lemmy (Noel Redding’s one-time roommate, who served as a roadie for the Experience for several months in his pre-Hawkwind/Motorhead days). Thus, we learn that not only was Jimi Hendrix a guitar hero (we already knew that), but we learn WHY he was one, and how he became one. On a related subject, Hendrix was fascinated by sounds, and was always striving to turn the sounds and colors he heard in his head into reality. Producer Alan Douglas says you “couldn’t produce” Hendrix, “you could only help him to produce himself”; he knew what he wanted, but did not always know the technical means by which to achieve his goals in the studio. Hendrix died leaving many of his ambitions unfulfilled. We’re told he wanted to write symphonies. not only for orchestra but for large ensembles of electric guitars. We’re told he wanted to form bigger bands, that the short-lived Gypsy Sun and Rainbows, the band he played with at Woodstock, was only a small step in that direction. Others tell us he wanted to go back to his blues roots, while Stephen Stills feels he would have turned in the direction of fusion. But the business heads around Hendrix insisted he continue to do “Purple Haze” and his other hits over and over, which he grew to despise.
Bonus Features include an irrelevant ten-minute featurette of silent film footage of the Monkees, taken by photographer Henry Diltz (another of the interviewees on this disc), who didn’t join the tour in which Hendrix opened for the Monkees (talk about your classic mismatch!) until after Hendrix was dismissed. While it’s by no means uninteresting to see (though not hear) the Monkees onstage, it should be on another disc, not this one. Much more illuminating is the one full-length performance by the Jimi Hendrix Experience on the DVD, an early live version of “Hey Joe”, in which it’s clear that Redding isn’t connecting with Hendrix and drummer Mitch Mitchell. Also included are a number of extended interviews, which include insights not chosen for the original film. As in the main program, some of the most perceptive commentary comes from Charles Cross, while some of the most significant comes from Leon Hendrix, with more fascinating info on his brother’s youth and musical upbringing. There are two small photo galleries, one of random shots and one of Henry Diltz material, plus a 20-page booklet of photos and biographical material, which does not merely reproduce the film’s contents.
In all, I would say that this would be a highly instructive and rewarding way to spend some of your Christmas gift money. Not only did I learn a lot, I found the great bulk, perhaps all, of it to be trustworthy, much more so than one might find on a bowdlerized “authorized” DVD.
This film would appear to be unauthorized by the Hendrix estate, which might explain why there are only a few snippets of Hendrix in live performance here, with most of the background music consisting of other people’s oldies. I enjoy listening to Hawkwind, Harry Nilsson and Lorraine Ellison (among many others heard here) as much as anyone, but they seem out of place in this context. This to me is the only real negative in this documentary, yet it’s a fairly small one. But the fact that this is most likely unauthorized means that interviewees feel free to speak their minds freely, without censorship. Thus we have, for example, a no-holds-barred look at Hendrix’s drug use, which everyone knows about, but which has rarely been openly discussed in such detail.
The film is narrated by Slash, whose admiration for Jimi Hendrix is well-known, and who seems quite well-versed in Hendrix lore, even though he died when Slash was only five years old. The great bulk of the interviewees, however, are people who knew Hendrix, many of whom played/jammed/associated with him, sharing their memories rather than relating unfounded rumors or hearsay. The musicians interviewed on-camera (mostly in 2009) include Eric Clapton, Eric Burdon, Mick Taylor, Zoot Money, Ginger Baker, Joey Covington, Bev Bevan. Mickey Dolenz, Lemmy, Stephen Stills, Alan White and Chris Squier, Dave Mason, and Paul Rodgers. Important, less publicly known parts to the story are recounted by Hendrix’ longtime English girlfriend, Kathy Etchingham, and his brother Leon Hendrix. Journalist/author Charles Cross adds a great deal of well-considered perspective as well.
Indeed, Leon’s tales of Hendrix’s poverty-filled childhood, raised by alcoholic parents who eventually split up and left the young brothers at the mercy of the Child Welfare system, provide many of the most poignant moments in the film. We learn that the parents’ constant arguing inspired one of Hendrix’ most touching songs, “Castles Made of Sand”. One can only speculate how this upbringing influenced the guitarist’s subsequent lifestyle choices. We hear from several sources that despite his copious drug use and “wild man” on-stage antics, Hendrix off-stage was quiet, polite, reserved, constantly with a guitar in his hand, practicing/rehearsing. Indeed, we are told that many of those on-stage antics were pure show-biz, his version of African-American showmanship that he learned during his apprenticeships with Little Richard, the Isley Brothers, Wilson Pickett, and others. Many of his “stunts”, such as playing the guitar behind his head and with his teeth, were used by earlier generations of blues musicians such as T-Bone Walker (and, I would add, Charlie Patton), but seemed new to the rock audience who hadn’t seen them before. Even his most outrageous moments were calculated, designed to gain maximum publicity, including the infamous guitar-burning/smashing at Monterrey.
We learn of Noel Redding’s jealousy, that rather than thanking his lucky stars that he found himself in an important, highly visible band, he felt he deserved to be “the star”, the guitar player for the band. (He was after all, as he would remind people, the best guitar player in Kent!). It turns out that he actually intended to audition for a guitar opening in the Animals, but that manager (and ex-Animal) Chas Chandler hired Redding as bassist for the Jimi Hendrix Experience even though he had no experience on the instrument. Redding’s dissatisfaction with and bare competence in his role explains why so much of the bass work on “Electric Ladyland” was by Hendrix himself, overdubbing, rather than by Redding. Dave Mason talks about how he came to play the acoustic guitar part on “All Along the Watchtower”, and how Hendrix’ classic solo on that track was actually a combination of three solos, including a slide part played with a cigarette lighter. I suspect much of this material may appear in various printed sources, but it’s nice to have it all in one place, confirmed by people who were there.
Musicians will appreciate the technical discussions of Hendrix’ fingerings, chord formations, sound effects, and amplifier set-ups by Slash, Stills, Covington, and Lemmy (Noel Redding’s one-time roommate, who served as a roadie for the Experience for several months in his pre-Hawkwind/Motorhead days). Thus, we learn that not only was Jimi Hendrix a guitar hero (we already knew that), but we learn WHY he was one, and how he became one. On a related subject, Hendrix was fascinated by sounds, and was always striving to turn the sounds and colors he heard in his head into reality. Producer Alan Douglas says you “couldn’t produce” Hendrix, “you could only help him to produce himself”; he knew what he wanted, but did not always know the technical means by which to achieve his goals in the studio. Hendrix died leaving many of his ambitions unfulfilled. We’re told he wanted to write symphonies. not only for orchestra but for large ensembles of electric guitars. We’re told he wanted to form bigger bands, that the short-lived Gypsy Sun and Rainbows, the band he played with at Woodstock, was only a small step in that direction. Others tell us he wanted to go back to his blues roots, while Stephen Stills feels he would have turned in the direction of fusion. But the business heads around Hendrix insisted he continue to do “Purple Haze” and his other hits over and over, which he grew to despise.
Bonus Features include an irrelevant ten-minute featurette of silent film footage of the Monkees, taken by photographer Henry Diltz (another of the interviewees on this disc), who didn’t join the tour in which Hendrix opened for the Monkees (talk about your classic mismatch!) until after Hendrix was dismissed. While it’s by no means uninteresting to see (though not hear) the Monkees onstage, it should be on another disc, not this one. Much more illuminating is the one full-length performance by the Jimi Hendrix Experience on the DVD, an early live version of “Hey Joe”, in which it’s clear that Redding isn’t connecting with Hendrix and drummer Mitch Mitchell. Also included are a number of extended interviews, which include insights not chosen for the original film. As in the main program, some of the most perceptive commentary comes from Charles Cross, while some of the most significant comes from Leon Hendrix, with more fascinating info on his brother’s youth and musical upbringing. There are two small photo galleries, one of random shots and one of Henry Diltz material, plus a 20-page booklet of photos and biographical material, which does not merely reproduce the film’s contents.
In all, I would say that this would be a highly instructive and rewarding way to spend some of your Christmas gift money. Not only did I learn a lot, I found the great bulk, perhaps all, of it to be trustworthy, much more so than one might find on a bowdlerized “authorized” DVD.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Stepping: The Documentary
Stepping: The Documentary (CTG Films, distributed by MVD)
Stepping is an African-American phenomenon with African roots. Unlike so many other manifestations of black American culture, however, it remains little known to mainstream America at large.
Stepping may be best thought of as a form of exhibition dancing using the human body as a percussion instrument. There is much audible hard-stomping on the floor, slapping of the thighs and other resonating parts of the body, and occasional vocals/chanting/rapping, though the latter is not an essential component. It is done as a tightly choreographed group presentation, as much visual as musical, and can be a very entertaining spectacle indeed.
This film, by first-time feature directors Marshall Blackwell and Norman Whiteburn is a bit weak on background, but high in entertainment value. For example, the DVD’s liner notes rightly point out the very strong connection between stepping and South African gumboot dancing. But in the film itself, the interviewees – who are presented as stepping experts, not as anthropologists or folklorists - seem to imply that the phenomenon had its origins in those areas of Africa that were most affected by the slave trade. This is rather tenuous, since the slaves came primarily from much further up the Atlantic Coast than the South African gumboot dancers. However, the film could have very easily drawn a connection between stepping and the “hambone”, a related African-American body percussion tradition, the origins of which are more clearly West African. Stepping is also related to the march-dance styles of black college marching bands, as well as historically black American dances such as tap, buck and wing, et. al. It would have nice had these connections been explored in detail in the film.
On the other hand, there is a great deal of valuable historical background here on African-American Greek-letter fraternities and sororities, the organizations which fostered and developed the styles of stepping prominent today. Stepping is still often regarded as a college Greek-organization activity. As the film shows, however, it has spread to high schools and many elementary schools as well. Most of the stepping groups shown in the film consist of University students, and each unit has its own particular approach to the dance and the attendant showmanship.
Since most of the film is devoted to a wide range of highly entertaining and distinctive performances, with the intent of bringing attention to this growing phenomenon, one can overlook the lack of research into the roots of stepping and just enjoy the show. I know I did!
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