DVD Review: Brian Wilson – Songwriter 1969-1982

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

Brian Wilson: Songwriter 1969-1982 (aka Brian Wilson: The Next Stage­)

Executive Producer: Rob Johnstone
Narrated by Thomas Arnold
Sexy Intellectual Films / Prism Films / Chrome Dreams Media
134 minutes, 2012
www.chromedreams.co.uk
www.mvdvisual.com

One could argue that by 1968, Brian Wilson, the genius behind the Beach Boys, Jan & Dean, and many others, was finished as a driving force., For example, he was in a series of recurring mental distress situations, his masterpiece Smile LP didn’t see the light of day for decades, and the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band had (allegedly) stolen the thunder of the creativity of that album by coming up with their own version of the studio-as-musician technical centerpiece – and that one was while the Beach Boy’s Capitol Records wouldn’t even acknowledge Smile (though bootleg versions were plentiful, especially to other musicians).

This British documentary, put out by the Chrome Dreams organization, focuses its laser beam on some of the darker years of Wilson’s career as a first-wave Beach Boy, which is good because other than a true Wilson devotee, the casual fan (such as myself) is most likely not familiar with this period. The earlier companion documentary to this, Brian Wilson: Songwriter 1962-1968, had previously been reviewed in this blog HERE.

After a very brief introduction to the Beach Boys (BB) to help the viewer catch up, it starts in earnest with the pressures Brian was under in the mid-‘60s, including constant pressure from Capitol to produce hits, and from the BB to not vary much from the formula – especially from co-vocalist/songwriter Mike Love, who was both important and a bit toxic (in my opinion) to the band, and to Brian specifically. His constant demand for the same-old-same-old caused Brian’s mid-1960s writing partner, Van Dyke Parks, to leave. Brian was interested in art; the band, with Love as its spokesperson, wanted them to be an “entertainer,” according to the film. All of it, including some heavy drug use, affected Brian to where he infamously retreated to his bed. For years.

Yet, he still managed to get his feet enough to help after a couple of disastrous LPs without him. “Let’s Do It Again,” as the film points out, is a mixture of the old BB sound and the vibe of “now” with compressed drum sounds and studio work by chief engineer Stephen Desper, who would support them in1968-71.This is a role Brian had done, mostly, and now Desper added some freshness.

Building a studio inside Brian’s house didn’t even bring him to the production table, as it were. Carl became in-charge as far as head of the studio production, which lead to a song which was a hit more in Europe than in the US, and is still one of my faves of the BB in general, “I Can Head Music.” Now, what irked me in the film is that the credit for the song is given to Phil Spector. Scuze me, but that is totally inaccurate. Yes, Spector got his name on the writing credit through his studio work, and greed to make money as co-author (this was a common trick dating back as far as the origins of rock and roll). But I have no doubt in my mind that this is an Ellie Greenwich song, written with her then-hubby, Jeff “Who Put the Bomp” Barry. While they mention Spector here, Barry/Greenwich are left on the roadside. That’s like saying the first issue of Punk magazine was written by Lou Reed.

There are a lot of interesting tidbits (of course I won’t say most of them, so no spoilers, per se, even though it is history rather than fiction), such has their connection with Brother Records after Capitol gave up on them, which is no surprise since they (a) were not selling as much product, and (b) the BB had sued the company for royalties. Twice.

As I said earlier, as a casual fan, there was so much from this period of which I was ignorant, such as Brian’s beautiful collaborations with poet Stephen Kalinich. While these recordings didn’t go anywhere, it did get him reconnected with the BB, when they signed with Reprise. This mix led to both hits and disappointments.

The films digests some of Brian’s songs by breaking down meaning in both lyric and music, sometimes fought against by both the record company and co-BB members.

Almost half way through is when the story really goes into a black hole of information for me, and I found it most refreshing for details, including his collaborations with the likes of the group American Spring and Randy Newman.

Another event that the documentary nails right on is the importance of the 1973 George Lucas film American Graffiti. This led to a wave of nostalgia for the early periods of rock and roll, including the play Grease and the television show “Happy Days.” Thanks to the wise move of their record company, the BB’s songs were compiled into an enormous selling two-record set of their hits called Endless Summer. I still remember how big it was when it came out (and yes, I have a copy that I got for a buck at a garage sale about 10 years later). This elevated the Beach Boys from trying to cope with the counterculture to becoming an All American Band and greatest hits live band. As one writer states in the film, the main set list was created at that point and remains to this day, with some exceptions (i.e., newer singles).

Under the care of Dr. Eugene Landy (d. 2006), Brian uncomfortably rejoined the BB on tour in the mid-‘70s. Landy’s influence on Brian is legendary, especially in part due to a cover story in Rolling Stone by David Felton, one of the few writers talking here that actually tells first-person anecdotes about Brian and his Landy relationship. This first time around, Landy didn’t last too long. The Landy Redux was another story.

After Landy I, Brian seemed to get better and put out what was basically a solo LP, The Beach Boys Love You, containing strange songs. While Brian kept up with some writing, his career as the preeminent Beach Boy creator was at an end by the 1980s, when the BB became associated with the Reagan administration due to their playing an infamous concert, and as the documentary points out, they were rebranded as “America’s Band.” The BB members had now reached the descriptor of middle aged white America.

The DVD leaves off with Landy II, when he comes back into the picture in the early ‘80s. As someone says here, “He saved Brian’s life, and then nearly killed him again.” What isn’t said is that the BB, sans Brian, would have a few more hits into the late ‘80s, including “Rock and Roll to the Rescue,” a cover of “California Dreaming” (in which John and Michelle Phillips appear in the song’s video), and the obnoxious (in my opinion) and omnipresent to this day “Kokomo,” all written in part by Mike Love.

The film has quite a few clips of their music (again, nothing longer than 30 seconds or so), but not much live. Sure, they’re shown on television shows, but mostly lip syncing; however, two of Brian’s infamous performances on Saturday Night Live in 1976 are shown (in part). This film is much more into the stills, BB as b-roll, and interviews with friends, co-workers (studio engineers, their manager for the early ‘70s Fred Vail, etc.), fellow musicians (amazing drummer Hal Blaine of the Wrecking Crew, who didn’t do much with the BB by the time period the doc starts) and collaborators (Kalinich), friends (Mark Volman, of the Turtles/Flo & Eddie), and the lone BB who appears, Bruce Johnston, to name a few. There are also the journalists who wrote bios of the band, who conjecture second-hand stories. Some of the people I would have loved to have seen would be Brian’s daughters Carnie and Wendy, Parks Van Dyke, and/or Carol Kaye (bassist for the Wrecking Crew; even though she despise that name, it does help shorthand a particular group)

Speaking of video clips, it’s interesting to watch Mike Love as he slowly turns over time from balding BB to a reaaaaally creepy looking Manson-like almost zombie, staring weirdly at the camera, especially in the early ‘70s segments. Brrrrrr.

The extras are some text about all the contributors (musicians, authors, etc.), and three featurettes (which are essentially interesting outtakes). The first one is the 5:11 “Philip Lambert Behind the Music.” Author / biographer Lambert discusses Brian’s technique via a piano on a couple of songs, such as “Do It Again,” a hit from the 20/20 album. The next is the 6:47 “Out of Bed: The Man Behind the Myth,” where a trio of his producers David Sandler, Earl Mankey and Stephen Desper, discuss how Brian was both creative and had a sense of humor “second only to Dennis.” The last is the 6:12 “Brian Goes Country! The Abandoned Fred Vail Album,” in which their ex-manager, talks about another lost Beach Boy albums, Cows Come Home to Pasture in 1970, before the Sunflower LP.

Part of Brian’s genius was that he was so wounded, which would, in the words of Monk, be a blessing, and a curse. This documentary covers that period pretty well. It could almost be part of their “Under Review” series, as the discussion leans towards not only Brian as a person, but an examinaiton detailing parts of his songs, and what makes them different from everything else; in other words, Brian’s genius.

 

DVD Review: Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young – Fifty By Four: Half a Century of CSNY

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

Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young – Fifty By Four: Half a Century of CSNY

Executive Producers: Rob Johnstone
Narrated by Thomas Arnold
Pride Films / Chrome Dreams Media
165 minutes, 2013 / 2014
www.chromedreams.co.uk
www.mvdvisual.com

I was wondering what should be the next DVD I would review. There is a backlog, so I have quite a few from which to choose. While out at the supermarket, as I pondered, weak and weary over a quaint and curious walking through the door, while I nodded, even though shopping, suddenly there came a sound over the PA. It was “Our House,” by Crosby, Stills and Nash (CSN). I took that as a signal that Fifty By Four was next. I had avoided it, honestly more due to its length of nearly three hours, so I decided to delve in and review that, and then watch it…er…nevermore.

Growing up, with the possible exception of “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” and “Ohio,” CSNand/orY were pretty peripheral to me, even though they were one of my older brother’s favorites. By the time the late 1960s came around, I had essentially stopped listening to the radio much, and focused more on film and television for entertainment. When they reunited on Live Aid in 1985, their set had some wincingly off-key harmonies. It wasn’t until the Ramones came along that I was lulled back into music. The catalog of CSNY was not really on my menu then either, as the punk revolution took me over. It wasn’t until someone gave me a CSN/CSNY Greatest Hits CD during the late 1990s that I started to enjoy more of their material, though a lot of it still leaves me scratching my head. And now, here we are.

Chrome Dreams (and their subsidiaries, such as Sexy Intellectual, Prism, and Pride) is a British company that does extremely detailed histories of both British and American bands or singers, including Clapton, Dylan, Zappa, the Stones and the Beatles. I have seen a few Neil Young bios by them before, and even reviewed a couple, but this is the first one I’ve seen for the whole megillah (though I know there are others from them).

CSNY fans tend to run towards the rabid, much like the Dead’s, so there is a question of who is going to watch this. For the die-hard fan, at least the first 2 hours are probably not going to be anything you don’t already know. If you’re more of a casual fan and are into music history, such as me, well, this is ideal (hell, I even read Slash’s annoying autobiography).

The DVD starts in the Laurel Canyon of Los Angeles during the mid-‘60s, with David Crosby in the Byrds, Stephen Stills and Neil Young in Buffalo Springfield, and Graham Nash in the Hollies over in the U. of K. It was the time just before the hippie revolution and the counterculture was on the cusp beyond that. It was the rise of the singer-songwriter (as opposed to the folkie, which would overlap) essentially begun the day Dylan went electric (okay, Dylan is credited here, but that last part isn’t in the documentary, but is my theory, which is mine, too).

Then, as now and always in any singular scene, bands were incestuous, and members often flow from one band to the next. Young quit Springfield, Crosby is brought in after the Monterey Pop Fest (but not before he discovers Joni Mitchell), and Nash is bored by the stuffy Brit band and wants to go all Carnaby Street. He hooks up with them and Crosby, Still and Nash are sprung. One might consider this one of the first supergroups, and that’s even before Young kinda joins the fold.



CSNY then

In a hippy dippy dopey (pot reference, FYI) idealistic mentality, they decide they are not a band, but will creatively shack up as individual singer-songwriters who perform together. But like common-law marriages, things start to get complex, especially when Stills comes out as macho Alpha Male, taking the word control of the control room literally. He ends up playing most of the instruments on their first album, Crosby, Stills and Nash (1969). By the time they start to tour, Crosby and Nash have no idea how to play the material and they get some back-up, including drummer Dallas Taylor and ex-Motown bassist, Greg Reeves. Soon, they are joined by Young (after his two failed solo albums), also an Alpha. Now the non-band is a band (see: complicated).

Over the next few decades, they would dance around each other, alternatively quitting, firing, rehiring each other due to (among other reasons) Crosby’s drug use (possibly due in part to the pain of losing his girlfriend, Christine Hinton, in a car crash), Nash and Rita Coolidge developing a relationship after she and Stills had a “tryst” (as it is described on the DVD; same thing happened with Joey and Johnny Ramone a decade later), and more ridiculously, the macho ego posturing of Stills and Young. It seems the only time they actually all worked together well was during periods of political outrage, such as the post-Kent State shooting “Ohio,” which pretty much became the anthem for the unrest in the period.

Again, most of their catalog and history are well known and documented through the late 1960s and ‘70s. The DVD especially became interesting in the last hour as the documentary starts focusing on the later part of their career, from the 1980s on, as I know so little about this period, as I was way too involved in the whole first wave punk movement to give a care about CSN(Y). Yet, even with that, I noticed that there was no mention of the media attention of Y’s joining CSN at the abovementioned Live Aid in ’85.

I know I talk about this every time I review one of Chrome Dream’s releases, but here ya go: This label has an easily identifiable, nearly auteur way of presenting their stories (usually produced by Rob Johnstone). Usually, it’s Tom Arnold doing the narration (he does a great job), as we see lots of photos, clips and interviews. The clips are a mixture of live in-concert, television performances, music videos and occasionally record cuts. Some of them are easily accessible, and some are quite rare, but in nearly all cases, they almost never last more than 20 seconds before Arnold begins talking. In some ways this is annoying because you want to hear the song, but on the other, well, this is already almost 3 hours, and it would have been more than double that if the full clips were shown. I’d like to see them include a second disc that just includes the full musical segments.



CSNY now

As for the interviews, as I’ve whined about before, there are all males talking, like women were only peripheral. The band’s momentum constantly changed due to women, including July Collins, who is never mentioned even though one of their earliest hits, “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” is about Stills’ relationship with her.

That being said, this is one of the better selections of interviews I’ve seen for one of this label’s releases. Sure, there is still the writers who give us second-hand stories and opinions (and they didn’t include the excellent Jeff Tamarkin or Richie Unterberger, both of whom write extensively on this period), but there is a large number of people who were actually there¸ giving first-hand anecdotes, rather than stories. All four of CSNY are represented, though it is via previous television interview clips through the years. However, their producers, studio engineers, and band members (yes, I’m using the term “band” and not “collective”) are interviewed specifically for this release. There are, in part, four drummers (Dallas Taylor, Joe Vitale, Joe Lala, Chad Cromwell) and three bassists (Greg Reeves, Calvin “Fuzzy” Samuel, George “Chocolate” Perry) represented, some telling what it was like in the studio, or on tour. As much as I like the writers, even those who saw the band live, it’s the ones who were in the trenches (an appropriate word considering all the conflicts within the performers) that mean more to me.

The nicest thing about this is that so many stories about ‘60s musician end with an untimely demise, but as of this review all members of CSN and Y are still kickin’ and performing – and getting somewhat along. They finally realized they “gotta get down to it.”

The extras are scarce but interesting. Other than some text info about the interviewees and a link to see more online, there is a 14+-minute short titled “Joe Vitale: The American Dream Sessions.” The personable drummer tells about recording the album at Young’s ranch in 1988.