DVD Review: Ian Hunter Band feat. Mick Ronson, Live at Rockpalast 1980

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2015
Images from the Internet

Ian Hunter Band feat. Mick Ronson, Live at Rockpalast 1980

Directed by Christian Wagner
MIG / WDR
74 min, 1980 / 2011 / 2012
www.MIG-music.de
www.MVDvisual.com

Call me crazy, but I always thought of Ian Hunter’s infamous Mott the Hoople as the British version of the MC5. After he left the band, well, if you’ve ever had the chance to hear Mott, you know just how sorely he was missed. I saw Mott open for Sparks at Avery Fischer Hall in the mid-1970s and, well, it’s not a good memory.

Guitarist extraordinaire Mick Ronson, who died in 1993 of cancer, first came to the consciousness of the US through his work with Bowie’s Spiders of Mars. I still remember seeing the ginormous billboard promote his solo LP, Slaughter on 10th Avenue in Times Square in the ‘70s (I have a picture of it somewhere). When he joined up with Mott, both he and Hunter soon left to live in New York City and continue their collaboration.

When introduced by the emcee for this performance at Grugahalle, in Essen, Germany, on April 20, 1980 (Adolph’s birthday, FYI), I find it kind of funny that these two Brits are invoked as a New York band. This is part of the same tour that gave the world Hunter’s Welcome to the Club live double LP; in fact, the playlist is extremely similar. The one major difference, I’m sorry to say, is that there is no Ellen Foley, who often backed up Hunter and Ronson. Other than that, the band is the same.

After a brief instrumental of “F.B.I.”, Hunter strolls out with his guitar and after saying hello in German, the band lays into ”Once Bitten, Twice Shy,” a hit from his eponymous first solo release. They show they are there to take care of business. As with many of his songs of the period, they are a bit rough and yet poppy, and have enormous hooks that are just shy of stadium rock stature.

Hunter never had a “perfect” voice, which makes it all the more charming in its uniqueness. You can recognize it instantly, and not just because of the ever present accent. He also seems quite at ease on the stage as he continues on covering key songs from his solo LPs and some – but not much – Hoople material.

A stand-out song right at the beginning is the underrated Sonny Bono sans-Cher song, “Laugh at Me.” It’s the first time Ronson joins in with his vocals, as he shares a mic with Hunter for the first few stanzas of the instantly identifiable, round-chording of the eventually Republican Scientologist Bono (d. 1998; he would have been 80 this year).

After the ballad “Irene Wilde” where Hunter trade his guitar for a piano, he hooks up again to cover the Hoople’s grinder, “I Wish I Was Your Mother,” with Ronson on mandolin. On this one, Hunter has a sort of Dylan-esque patter to his voice.

But he picks it up again with the rousing jailhouse themed “Just Another Night,” including a stint of standing in the audience – next of a seemingly very nervous cameraman – as the crowd chants the title over and over, fed by the band holding up the words in German. This is followed by the first song that sounds like the ‘80s, “We Gotta Get Out of Here,” as it is drenched in a synth sound; it’s a tone I’m not particularly fond of, but the upbeat pace saves it on some level.

They redeem themselves with the lengthy, hard-hitting and mean spirited “Bastard,” which always reminded me of the song “For the Hell of It” from Phantom of the Paradise (1974). Also, they return to form with “All the Way from Memphis,” a rousing Hoople number where Hunter and Ronson trade complimentary guitar licks. I also find it amusing that the song “Cleveland Rocks” had such a strong second life with The Drew Carey Show. It really is a fun piece of fluff, and the band here rocks it up with no mercy.

For the encore, we get treated to the two leads’ biggest hits, Hunter’s “All the Young Dudes” and Ronson’s instrumental “Slaughter on 10th Avenue.” For me, these were possibly the least fave songs on the DVD, because, well, I’ve never been a fan of those two particular numbers. So much of the other material here is far superior. In my meager opinion, the only reason “Dudes” was as popular as it was is because it was written by the Thin White Duke, rather than the quality of the actual song.

The sound here, as with most of this series, is quite crisp, as is the visuals. However, there is some visual “noise” occasionally, seen as lines across the screen that crop up here and there. It’s a common effect from transferring from PAL to a non-European format. Still, it’s (a) not often or intrusive enough to ruin the experience, and (b) the quality of the music makes it worth it. The only extras are some 30-second trailers of other Rockpalast releases, the song list, a really nice booklet filled with black and white photos of the show, and technical information (i.e., credits). Note that this is also available as a CD, and I’m going to venture to guess it’s also obtainable in digital form.

Most of the band is dressed in stage clothes that represent more of the New Wave, with guitarist Tom Morrongiello’s curly mullet and black and white tiger-striped top (and sunglasses, of course), or another member in a black leather jacket that’s more Michael Jackson than Ramones, all of which would be outdated very shortly. Hunter, of course, wears what has become his signature outfit: white shoes, gray suit and white shirt with extended collars and loosened tie, sunglasses, and his big perm (which I’d have to be convinced that it’s not a wig).

As over-indulgent music grabbed hold of the ‘80s, many British vocalists would strike out on their own and have overbloated hits, such as Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” or Phil Collins’…well, everything. Just about the only one who rose above all that clamor, in my humble opinion, was Hunter with his “All of the Good Ones Are Taken,” which is sadly not included here because it would not be released for another three years after this show.

For a guy who is 41 years old at the time this was recorded (he’s 76 now), Hunter put together a great show for this concert. And we, the audience, are the lucky for it.

Band:

Ian Hunter: vox / guitar / keyboards
Mick Ronson: guitar / vox
Tom Morrongiello: guitar
Martin Briley: bass
George Meyer: keyboards / saxophone
Tom Mandel: keyboards
Eric Parker: drums

Song List:

FBI
Once Bitten Twice Shy
Angeline
Laugh at Me
Irene Wilde
I Wish I Was Your Mother
Just Another Night
We Gotta Get Out of Here
Bastard
All the Way from Memphis
Cleveland Rocks
Encore:
All the Young Dude
Slaughter on 10th Avenue

 

Bonus No. 1 unconnected video:

 

Bonus No. 2 unconnected video:

DVD Review: The Sacred Triangle: Bowie, Iggy & Lou, 1971-1973

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet

The Sacred Triangle: Bowie, Iggy & Lou, 1971-1973
Directed by Alec Lindsell
Narrated by Thomas Arnold
Sexy Intellectual, 2010
107 minutes, USD $19.95
Chromedreams.co.uk
MVDvisual.com

Let’s get right down to it:

This is a British documentary, so you know which one of the three is getting the main focus. Okay, picture two pyramids next to each other. The one on the left is Lou Reed and the one on the right is Iggy. Balancing between them is a line connecting the two (that is Marc Bolan, mentioned often but not in detail). And finally there is the third pyramid of the “sacred” triangle, David Bowie, on top of it all. That is the vision presented here. Okay, I’m done. Naw, not really, as this is still an interesting – albeit somewhat skewed – vision of the three.

Let me quickly add here that I am totally impressed by the choice of interviews that have been selected for this doc, which is so much better than the Pearl Jam one in this series. But more on the talking heads later.

There’s no doubt that Bowie was influenced by Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground, but that’s nothing new. Just listen to David Jones’ singing style around the Ziggy Stardust period, and it’s easy to see the progression from his earlier works. Personally, I’d rather listen to Reed’s take, but that’s just me, walkin’ on the wild side on a Sunday morning when comes the dawning.

There’s plenty of clips here of the Velvets; well, as much as there really is, which is limited, and taken by the Warhol crowd “artfully” (i.e., in fast speed) while in Exploding Plastic Inevitable mode (Gerard and his whip dance is often present). Bowie was still in folkie / cutsie mode when he first heard “Waitin’ for My Man,” and (rightfully) became a huge VU fan. An example given here is his “Toy Soldier,” which is such a – er – homage to “Venus in Furs,” it even quotes it in a few place, such as the line “bleed for me.” The video for the song has someone dancing with whips. And on “Black County Rock,” as explained in this doc, Bowie even imitates Bolan. MainMan publicist and photographer Leee Black Childers, who would later manage Iggy and then the Heartbreakers, states here that Bowie’s true talent is to know what to steal. In fact he said this and many of other the other bon mots he posits in a FFanzeen interview conducted by our own Nancy Foster (aka Nancy Neon) back in 1982 (reprinted here: ffanzeen.blogspot.com/2010/02/portrait-leee-black-childers.html).

Andy Warhol is shown as possibly as big an influence as the VU, and to talk about the theatrics of the Factory and its influence on Bowie are the likes of the very wound up VU biographer Victor Bockris, the fabulous aforementioned Childers (who used to have one of the coolest motorcycle jackets ever, with an image of Gene Vincent painted on its back), the equally extraordinary Jayne County, smartly dressed in bright red Little Red Riding Hood mode (she even matches the couch!), 16 Magazine publisher (early on) and Ramones manager Danny Fields, and the Psychotic Frog himself (who was also one of Andy’s superstars), Jimi LaLumia. They paint a vivid picture of Lou and Andy’s influence on not only Bowie, but music in general. But Bowie is the main focus here, and in this case almost rightfully so, as Lee, Jayne, and Jimi were all hired by the Bow-ster to work with Tony DeFries and help run his production company, MainMan. One person seriously missing from the interview call list, though, is Cherry Vanilla, which is a serious deficit.

But the person of interest for me here, interview wise, is definitely Angela Bowie. A while back I found her kind of abrasive, but I must say that my opinion has totally changed, and I now I can see her as incredibly refreshing. She holds nothing back, and will tell the most intimate details at top volume. My apologies to you, for any negative thoughts I may have had in the past. But I digress…

Other interviewees include writers Paul Tryoka and Dave Thompson, and musician John Harlsen, who was a drummer on the Bowie-produced Lou Reed first popular solo effort, Transformer (as well as being Barry Womble, of the Rutles), which included his hits “Satellite of Love” and “Walk on the Wild Side.” They all paint a very detailed portrait of Bowie, and what effect Reed and Iggy had on him, and how Bowie had affected them. Also included are some short interviews (more likely called clips) with the key artists involved, such as Bowie (from 2001 and 2007), Lou Reed (1986), Iggy (1988), and just as importantly, Mick Ronson (looking extremely frail shortly before his death in 1993). There would arguably be no Bowie to the scale he achieved without Ronson as a musical driving force (rather than an influence, like Reed and Pop), I’m convinced.

Possibly one of Warhol’s biggest influences (and he really is as big as either Lou or Iggy in the David Jones pantheon) is the idea that “You’re a Star!” and if you act like it, people will come to believe and expect it. Even before the money, there was the wardrobe, the limos, the expense accounts, and all the trappings. LaLumia states it quite well when he relates that Bowie claimed that “I’m an actor. I’m not a musician. I’m portraying a rock star.” I can’t argue with that, as I’ve always found that Lou Reed was true to what he believed, as was Iggy totally committed to what he was doing, but Bowie was posing, rather than being. Perhaps that’s why I’ve never found him to be someone I’ve looked up to musically, especially in the reality of the punk days of the Ramones and the ilk.

While Iggy’s role in the Bowie history (and vice-versa) is more commonly known, there is much less about Iggy here than either Reed or especially Warhol. Bowie famously helped Pop both get off drugs and revive his career. For me, Bowie major force was in the studio as a producer, more than a vocalist, or especially as an innovator, as he was a series of influences creatively recast. Angela probably had as much to do with Bowie’s success as did David or Ronson – or even DeFries. And I won’t even detail Cherry Vanilla’s outreach program.

The added feature to the DVD is a seven-minute documentary called “The Nico Connection,” which shows how she had touched the lives of all three musicians that are the focus of the main feature. There is a bio for each of the contributors, and it put a smile on my face to see my pals the She Wolves given a shout out by Jayne County, as they’ve worked together over the past few years.

As a last note, I would like to add that after viewing this DVD, check out The Velvet Goldmine, which will then make so much more sense.


Bonus video