Showing posts with label 1972. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1972. Show all posts

Monday, April 29, 2019

Born to Boogie (1972)

On another whim, I happened to watch Born to Boogie, a film about T. Rex from 1972 that is difficult to categorize. Directed by and featuring several scenes with Ringo Starr, it clearly takes a card from Ringo's goofy, playful style. Most of the film is based around concert footage from two massive concerts on the same day at Wembley. In between are some experimental and comedic scenes and a superstar jam session in which T. Rex are joined by Ringo and Elton John.

If you're a fan of T. Rex and that introduction sounds awesome, then you will probably enjoy the film no matter what else I write. But in truth, the film leaves a lot to be desired. First off, it's only just about an hour long. Secondly, of the dozen or so songs performed, three are repeated (albeit in different arrangements). Most importantly, while Ringo seems like a really fun person to hang out with, he isn't exactly a talented director.

The concert footage is decent, but it is readily apparent that it was either overdubbed or at least partially re-tracked. Harmony vocals can be heard despite no one on stage apparently singing them. Marc Bolan's hands are not always aligned with the guitar sounds, and at some points it even sounds like there are two guitar tracks. Mickey Finn's congas are mostly inaudible. Worst of all, much of the screen time is devoted to rather creepy close-ups of ecstatic young women in the audience.

The studio jam session is admittedly quite cool, but again, signs of overdubbing or re-tracking are apparent. Nonetheless, the three percussionists still have some trouble staying in time. On the other hand, John hammers at a piano with a furious intensity that is impressive to watch. While "Tutti Frutti" seems like nobody's favorite song, "Children of the Revolution" is done quite well.

The other notable segment is described as a "Tea Party" despite that it features nuns eating hamburgers, Finn ravenously eating something apparently bloody, and Bolan playing songs with an acoustic guitar, backed by a string quartet. The imagery, despite being filmed at John Lennon's estate grounds, is mostly bizarre and uncomfortable, but the music is pleasant. They play a medley of "Jeepster", "Hot Love", "Get It On", and "The Slider", all done in clever arrangements with the strings.

Other than a few bits of recited poetry, that's about all there is. Later releases add various interviews from the era, assorted outtakes, and/or the entire Wembley concerts. My interest did not quite extend that far. While I deeply appreciate the cosmic absurdity of T. Rex, Born to Boogie does not do a great job of presenting their best parts. It comes across as indulgent and uninspired. If you can handle that, it still has some fun elements, and it's easy to see why someone so strange could be so inspirational.


Score: C-

References:

P.S. Thanks to Stereogum for offhandedly mentioning this film!

P.P.S. I never released how much Robert Smith borrowed from Bolan in the early days!

Saturday, February 16, 2019

Amazing Grace (2018)

One of the many joys of living in Berlin is being able to see films premiering at one of the most important film festivals of world, the Berlinale (officially the "Berlin International Film Festival"), with hardly any effort. However, if you stay clear of Potsdamer Platz (as most locals do), the festival is actually easy to overlook as a resident. That's what happened to me last year. This year, I almost suffered the same fate, but I at last came to my senses and managed to get tickets for Amazing Grace.

The backstory is already gripping without knowing much about the actual content. A young Sydney Pollack was given the opportunity to film a young Aretha Franklin at her commercial peak, recording a hugely successful gospel double album live in a baptist church in Los Angeles. However, he didn't do anything to note which cameras were recording which songs on which reel, and the effort of synchronizing the audio to the video was such a tedious and challenging chore that everyone involved gave up.

Sydney Pollack kept the idea alive, though, and right before he died in 2008, he passed the project over to Alan Elliott. Elliott, aided by modern computing, was finally able to get the synchronization job done, only to be blocked from releasing the film by Aretha Franklin herself. She was apparently upset about money, a missing contract, or permission, but after her death last year, her estate finally assented to the distribution of the film. Almost 47 years after the two nights of the performance, the film started making the festival rounds.

The film has almost the same running time as the original album (just under an hour and a half). There are no unreleased songs, almost no rehearsal footage, and very little in the way of framing the performances. The choir marches in in full silver-vested glory, the Reverend James Cleveland introduces Aretha, and about half of the songs from the first night at shown. It switches to the second night for the rest of the songs plus a scene introducing Clara Ward, who alternates between sitting awkwardly and dancing frantically, and Aretha's father, Reverend C.L. Franklin, who delivers a speech about Aretha's gospel roots.

Regardless of how one feels about gospel, the music is stirring, and Aretha's performance is stellar. She doesn't say a lot (Cleveland handles most of the hyping), and the only apparent emotion she shows is deep passion for the music. It is that very intensity that makes her entrancing. She plays piano on a couple songs and she does it without even looking or seeming to notice the effort; her voice doesn't even register the distraction. The rest of the band is similarly talented, although they are generally overwhelmed (or at least overshadowed) by the handclapping and vocals of Aretha and the powerful and enthusiastic Southern California Community Choir.

There is some irony that the weakest song of the set is the title track itself, "Amazing Grace". Aretha's version is overlong, melodramatic, and exaggerated. However, the rest of the material is great. Even for the non-religious, the lyrics are inspirational, and the impassioned spirituality of the performers and the highly responsive audience make the whole thing feel like an overdue celebration. It's easy to get carried along. Everyone appears to be having a good time. The audience is incredibly thrilled to be there and they show it.

I'll admit that I might not have sought out this movie if I hadn't stumbled across it on the Berlinale schedule and gotten taken in by the story. I'm glad I went, though; it was uplifting and insightful. I could've done without cameos by the Mick Jagger and Charlie Watts, and I would've appreciated some more footage of the rehearsals, but there wasn't much chaff in what did make the cut. It was a strong performance and a significant moment in musical history, so it's our luck that someone had the bright idea of filming it all.

Score: B+

References:

P.S. Thanks to Alyssa!

Saturday, April 4, 2015

Lou Reed, John Cale, and Nico - Live 1972.01.29 Le Bataclan, Paris, France


Artists: Lou Reed, John Cale, & Nico
Venue: Le Bataclan
Location: Paris, France
Date: 29 January 1972
Album: Le Bataclan '72
Release Date: 19 October 2004, 10 December 2013
Label: Alchemy Entertainment/Pilot, Keyhole

Typical tracklisting:
01. I'm Waiting for the Man
02. Berlin
03. The Black Angel's Death Song
04. Wild Child
05. Heroin
06. Ghost Story
07. The Biggest, Loudest, Hairiest Group of All
08. Empty Bottles
09. Femme Fatale
10. No One Is There
11. Frozen Warnings
12. Janitor of Lunacy
13. I'll Be Your Mirror
14. All Tomorrow's Parties
15. Pale Blue Eyes [Rehearsal]
16. Candy Says [Rehearsal]

This is one of the most popularly bootlegged concerts in the history of these three performers. It's quite a special moment, as this trio hadn't performed together since Nico separated from the Velvet Underground in 1967, and they never would again. Here, they share each other's songs, and the whole thing is done acoustically. If that weren't enough, Cale plays two songs he never released ("The Biggest, Loudest, Hairiest Group of All" and "Empty Bottles", which was given to Jennifer Warnes), and Reed's solo songs ("Berlin" and "Wild Child") are played in rather different arrangements than appeared on record. Even if the musicians are clearly a bit out of practice, and the instruments aren't always quite in tune, this is a very special concert.

But everyone seems to already know that, and what I really want to address is the legitimacy of this album in its commercially released form. The 2004 release by Alchemy Entertainment (with a Pilot catalog number) is supposedly legitimate, but I've always been skeptical. Pitchfork, Wikipedia, and the Fear Is a Man's Best Friend John Cale fansite all list it as an official release. But then why didn't the album appear on any of the musicians' primary labels, most of which are major industry players? A bit of research into AlchemyEntertainment's catalog shows a rapid string of releases, all of dubious quality, all circa 2004.

Take for example the Joy Division albums Les Bains Douches 18 December 1979 and Preston 28 February 1980, both live albums with long histories of releases on dubious labels. Both are supposedly "official" releases, yet have questionable quality, idiosyncratic errors, and features common to all bootleg versions. In the meantime, Joy Division enthusiast The Analog Loyalist has notably compiled and remastered a much improved and substantially more complete bootleg version of the Les Bains Douches concert. If the commercially available version was indeed an official release, then why is The Analog Loyalist's version obviously superior in every way? Why do the "official" albums have a history of releases on dubious labels like NMC/New Millennium Communications (some of which share the Pilot catalog numbers) and GetBack?

Note that the Bataclan album has a similar history of multiple labels (including some of the same as the Joy Division albums!), all of which seem dubious. The most recent release (and the one I ended up with) is on Keyhole, which appears to be a relatively new bootleg label, and clearly known as such even to discogs.com – every catalog item is listed as "Unofficial"!

Furthering my skepticism is that the various versions of this album contain several errors. "All Tomorrow's Parties" is often labeled as an encore (it was not, as far as I can tell). It is also sourced from an audience tape instead of the soundboard used as the primary source. These are the same sources that have been traded as bootlegs for years upon years, and this "official" version is not remastered, more complete, cleaner, or better in any capacity. Worst of all, the whole thing plays conspicuously slow, presumably because it was mastered at the wrong speed.

I am not the only one who is skeptical about the legitimacy of these releases, and according to this thread, John Cale even took action against the pressing of this album at some point. Richie Unterberger's White Light/White Heat also confirms that Lou Reed was not pleased to learn about the album. I am curious to find more definitive answers, so if you have additional information, please share it. It's worth noting that I am certainly not against trading bootlegs of unreleased material, especially if the artists have approved such trading (as they often do). What bothers me is the idea of people making money off of these recordings without anything going to the artists in question. Anyway, why buy bootlegs when trading of lossless audio is so easy via torrents and sites like the Live Music Archive?

Score: B+