Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen,
2010-2014
Images from the Internet
Lou
Reed Tribute: The DVD Collection * 3 Disc Set
Chrome Dreams
279 minutes, 2014
www.Chromedreams.co.uk
www.MVDvisual.com
To those who are unaware, if there is
anyone left, Lou Reed passed away on October 27, 2013. The good British folks
who bring numerous and well-done independent documentaries about musicians and
groups in the rock era, Chrome Dreams, have compiled three of their Lou
Reed-related releases and put them into a three-disc box set. Cashing in?
Perhaps, but the topic is important enough and of interest enough for me to say
“thanks.” I had previously reviewed the final one in the set, so I am
reprinting it here at the bottom.
The
Velvet Underground: Under Review – An Independent Critical Analysis
Directed, produced
and narrated by Tom Barbor-Might
Sexy Intellectual
85 minutes, 2006
Wow, this is definitely the Cole Notes
(Classics Illustrated?) version of the story of the Velvet Underground (VU).
Three minutes in Nico is being introduced to the band, as explained in an
interview with Factory photographer and archivist, Billy Name, who was easily
as influential on the scene as Warhol, though not as present in the public
cultural zeitgeist. By seven minutes in, the first album is being recorded and
drummer Maureen Tucker is describing the experience.
Mind you, I am not complaining about
any of this. I mean, it’s easy enough to find a multitude of histories of every
member of the VU. I probably have 5 or 6 on my bookshelf (I highly recommend
Richie Unterberger’s 2009 White Light/White
Heat). What makes this particular one special, to me is hearing from the
people who were there, like Name and Tucker, so early on in this telling.
Besides, this isn’t a history of the Velvets,
it’s a “critical analysis,” so unlike most of the amazing Chrome Dream catalog,
it makes sense that a majority of those discussing the band are writers and
critics who tell their opinions rather than second-hand anecdotes. The DVD
starts going into depth, in fact, upon discussion of The Velvet Underground &
Nico recording. The place is proper for Clinton Heyln, who wrote the book From the Velvets to the Voidoids (2005) to
opinionate that “Venus in Furs” is the most important rock song since “Heartbreak
Hotel.”
It gets especially interesting when
they discuss the centerpiece of the album, “Heroin.” Norman Dolph, line producer
of the album, discusses what the atmosphere was like being in the studio during
the taping, and then Joe Harvard, who wrote the 33-1/3 Series book on the record, does a really nice analysis of
not only what the song is saying lyrically, but musically. Tucker also tells a
great story about her essential drumming/pounding on the song. Included is a
live clip of the band playing it live.
Each song is dissected without being
hypercritical and academically analytical, thankfully, placed in a context of
fandom, so “Waiting for My Man” is explained in its Dylan influence, the subway
sound of its rhythm (Robert Christgau here gives Mo her props), and the
differences between the earlier “Ludlow Tapes” and the final product.
Sadly, the only Nico song discussed is “All
Tomorrow’s Parties,” and I would have loved to have heard them discuss “European
Son,” which needs to be broken down.
After the departure of Nico, there is a
segment about them playing at the Boston Tea Party in, well, Boston, discussed
by the manager who booked them, Steve Nelson. This makes a nice separation
between discussing their first release and their White Light/White Heat.
This second LP, according to some of
the critics here, is what influenced the punk scene more than the first, as
they flash images of the Stooges (who were actually contemporaries of the VU,
not followers), the New York Dolls, Suicide, Patti Smith, Richard Hell, the
Ramones, Talking Heads, and Blondie over the title song. Personally, I don’t believe
it was any one album that led to the punk movement, but it was definitely part
of the brick in the CB’s/Max’s wall.
Of course, they focus mainly on “Sister
Ray,” described as the “centerpiece” of the album. There is definitely not as
detailed an analysis as the firs release, which is a shame, since I know the
first so much better than the second. I was interested, and it wasn’t there.
To me, though, the one real flaw is the
mostly unidirectional discussion of influence during the recordings. What I
mean by that is that they talk a lot about how other musicians were influenced
by the VU, but other than a brief mention of Reed’s Dylan fixation on “Waiting
For My Man” and Cale’s non-traditional jazz origin, there is no explanation of
why the second VU album is so markedly different than the first, or who they
were listening to at the time. I believe that VU were made of the exact same
influences as the Stooges and the MC5, but used the filter of different loci
scenes. It isn’t until the third album that we see a discussion of where the
foundations lay.
Little over half a year after the album’s
release, Cale left (or as Mo smilingly describes him, the “lunatic”), which
changed the direction, minus the drone and screech. They became “melodic,” especially
with the addition of Doug Yule. It’s great that Yule is interviewed about his
tenure here, which included their self-titled LP from 1969 (aka “The Grey Album”).
Discussed from it is the quality and
origin of the guitar solo from “What Goes On.” I like the photo of Yue putting
the bass under his chin like Cale’s violin. Another song discussed is how Doug
sang “Candy Says” (the song, of course, is about Candy Darling), and how he didn’t
know Candy’s back story. Mo talks about recording her vocals on “After Hours,”
with Doug adding his thoughts. By this time, the discussion is more about the
recording process than about the content.
They do finally get around to Sterling Morrison
(d. 1995) and how underrated he was as a guitarist, after an hour in to the
whole she-bang. Sadly, we don’t’ get to hear Mo talk about him much, which is
strange since they were the rhythm section for the entire tenure of the VU (not
counting Yules solo release using the VU name, which is summarily and rightfully
dismissed here). There is some talk of the mysterious “missing” LP (eventually
released decades later) and Live at Max’s
Kansas City, with Doug’s brother Billy replacing a pregnant Mo on drums,
but the analysis has just about disappeared and it’s become less of a critical
discussion as a “what happened,” documentary, which in itself is interesting,
but not what was promised.
The last real VU album was Loaded, again which Mo could not play
on, and Doug goes on record saying that they should have waited for her; Mo
says unwaveringly that she wishes she could have done the song “Ocean.”
Rightfully noted on the DVD, however, that even although the band was in the
process of falling apart, it did impact two of the band’s well known songs, “Sweet
Jane” and “Rock & Roll.” Christgau here posits that they are the most
important songs the VU ever recorded.
There is a brief discussion by Mo and
Doug about their initial reactions at the time to Lou leaving, and little
further after that, but they are right in saying that music today would not be
the same without the Velvets. There is no doubt that the Velvet Underground was
a turning point in music, and I certainly enjoy their output, but I must add
that while they changed the face of culture, so did many others.
Extras are “The Hardest Velvet’s Quiz
in the World Ever” (I stopped after No. 5, having gotten them all correct), contributor
bios, and a 15-minute short called “Velvet Reflections” (aka additional
interviews not used in the DVD).
While I think the box is a bit over the
top with its descriptor “…it is the finest film on the band ever to emerge,” it
definitely kept my interest throughout, and I would recommend it both for the
fan and also those who are interested in music history.
Punk
Revolution NYC: The Velvet Underground, The New York Dolls & the CBGBs Set
– Part One 1966-1974
Directed by Unknown
Pride
DVD
87
minutes, 2011
Of
the three films, this is the one I was most looking forward to seeing, so I saw
it last, of course… punk rawk! Most of the others were before my musical time
(which for me began on June 20, 1975, my first time at CBGBs, seeing Talking
Heads (their first show) opening for the Ramones. While I know of some of the people
in the others, in this documentary, I have been in a room and shared
conversations with most, and have physically seen the rest, including on stage.
The film posits that after the arrival
of the Beatles, most of the new music in the US was from California, with the
Byrds being the touchstone. That would change when John Cale met Lou Reed and
they formed the Velvet Underground. A good point made here is that even though
Reed was the central figure, without Cale’s avant-garde influence and Warhol’s
push toward art, the VU probably would never have been so powerful a cultural
force.
One important piece that they more
dance around in the large VU history segment is that the band did not create a
scene, but were part of the art collective. It was actually their legacy (i.e.,
recordings) that were picked up later in the cut-off bins for a buck or less after
the band no longer existed that truly was influential to help create that scene
half a decade later, when that was added to the likes of the Stooges, and MC5. But
the New York CBGB’s scene as they’re calling it here – why was Max’s not included
in the title, I wonder, as it features prominently here – was also an
anti-movement, exploding as much against corporate/classic rock as for its
influences. The black hole was as important as the primordial soup in this
case, for the growth of punk rock. But I get ahead of myself…
However, there was a progression from
Warhol to the scene, as they explain, as many of the “superstars” or near-super
were from the indie theater (e.g., The Theater of the Ridiculous), including
those who would foster the nascent scene, such as Jayne County, Elda Gentile
(aka Elda Stiletto) – both interviewed here – Patti Smith, Cherry Vanilla, David
Johansen, Debbie Harry, and Eric Emerson.
The doc veers a bit into how the Warhol
crowd influenced Bowie (after all, this is a British film) before veering back
to Emerson and his band the Magic Tramps being a catalyst to the opening of the
Mercer Arts Center in New York to bands. This was what opened up a space for
the true link between the Velvets and what was to come in 1974 with CBGBs, and the
New York Dolls (who are still not in
the corporatized Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum because they never made
enough money for the record companies; don’t get me started). Stunningly, and
rightfully so, this film also gives almost equal credit as the Dolls to the duo
of Suicide (who, they point out, were arguably the first to use the term punk music
in the very early ‘70s). Jayne County refers to them perfectly: “Suicide were
so genius they went over everyone’s head.”
From there, of course, they jump to
Richard Hell and Tom Verlaine, joining musically as well as poetic frienemies,
with Richard Lloyd to form Television. The story is infamous now about how they
approached Hilly Kristal to open up CBGBs to new music, as is related here by
Hell and Lloyd (though not together, of course). Television brought their own
opening act, the Stilettos, which would implode and, with a shake-up, become
Blondie.
With the rise of CBGBs (and apparently
the disappearance of Max’s since the showcase, which became even more amazing
after the Warhol crowd abandoned it, is unfairly barely mentioned again), came
the overshadowing of the Dolls, and thus ends Part I. No mention of the Ramones
or the Heartbreakers, dammit.
It amuses me how they keep bringing Britain
into the whole shebang (Warhol crowd goes to London! Bowie calls Television
original!), yet they never once mention how Malcolm McLaren was hanging around
and getting / borrowing ideas for his own British store and scene.
There are a couple of
oversimplifications and a bit over crediting, but generally this is a nicely
handled overview of the sex leading up to the birth of the New York Scene. What
is really remarkable is some of the talent they get to speak up for it. Usually
there’s an overabundance of writers who comment on the scene (though it’s right
that Robert Christgau be represented, though he would eventually turn his back
on the NY scene and focus on the British end of it in his columns), but here,
the partial list of interviewees include Jayne County (who tends to be
undercredited for her role), photographer Roberta Baley, the ever-great
storyteller and photographer Leee Black Childers, Danny Fields, Elda Gentile,
David Johansen (for a sec), Alan Vega, and Richard Lloyd.
Along with the contributor bios, the
main extra is an 8-minute featurette called “Anarchy in the UK – The New Yorkers
Cross the Atlantic.” There has always been the chicken-and-egg argument of who
got to where first. Here, Richard Hell states that they got it from us. British
author Tony Fletcher states that we got it from them when we crossed the ocean
and saw what they were doing. I think Jayne County, once again, gets it closer,
where she states that outside NYC, bands didn’t do well, but in much smaller
and densely populated England, where there is numerous weekly music newspapers,
the NY bands were treated like royalty and gained a reputation. What no one
else is mentioning is that when the relatively popular British bands came here,
they entered a vacuum. I remember Eddie & the Hot Rods playing Max’s to a
half filled, non-dancing crowd (which upset them). Even the Troggs played Max’s
in ’77 to a well received, but not packed audience. When I saw the Police and
the Vapors (“Turning Japanese”) play, it was in the basement of a Hotel on 43
St, and it was hardly crowded, and this was after “Roxanne” had been out.
Now I really want to see Part II…
The
Sacred Triangle: Bowie, Iggy & Lou, 1971-1973
Directed by Alec Lindsell
Narrated by Thomas Arnold
Sexy
Intellectual
107
minutes, 2010
[Reprinted from the FFanzeen
blog, October 31, 2010]
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.
[HERE]
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, 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 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.
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