DVD Review: Going Underground – Paul McCartney, the Beatles and the UK Counter-culture

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2016

Images from the Internet

Going Underground: Paul McCartney, the Beatles and the UK Counter-culture

Written and directed by Tom O’Dell

Narrated by Thomas Arnold

Pride Films / Chrome Dreams Media

153 minutes, 2013

www.prismfilms.co.uk

www.chromedreams.co.uk

www.mvdvisual.com

There were many counter-cultures (aka the peace movement and hippies) in the 1960s, and in fact, more than one in the United States. The one in San Francisco was different than the one in Los Angeles, and both were dissimilar to those in New York or Chicago. Up north, Vancouver was the Canadian center (or in this case centre), but there was also one in Toronto and Montreal. Every major city had their own, yet ironically, many people left to find someone else’s, moving across the country to the other centers, especially SF and NYC.

What most of the scenes had in common, though, were LSD and the Beatles, especially after Magical Mystery Tour and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. Their effect was so extreme, that I posit that the later album killed rock and roll as a driving musical force (until the Ramones), and became, rather, secondary to the emergence of Rock. But I digress...

But even the Beatles had to be influenced by it somewhere; it certainly didn’t emerge out of Bluebird Way. This documentary starts in the 1950s, examining the roots of the counter-culture movement, beginning with the anti-nuclear proliferation (dis)organization, which was also focused on peace / end of war / end of nuclear armament.

Step-by-step, and in great detail, as this British film lasts for 2-1/2 hours, posits that jazz (e.g., Ornette Coleman and Cecil Taylor) and then beat poetry made their way from the States and were adopted – then adapted – by the British, leading to a bookstore that would become the locus of the avant-garde music scene. Its name was Indica, named after a form of cannabis plant. No surprise there, eh wot? The store was owned, in part, by Peter Asher. In 1966, it would have its own newspaper / newsletter / fanzine called the International Times (aka IT, or sometimes it)

Where the Beatles come into it is essentially through the bastions of rebellion in England, the Art Schools. Radical art leads to radical thoughts, and vice-versa. This is not a tradition followed in the West, where art in schools is somewhere behind Sports, English, and Study Hall. For Paul McCartney, he was heavily influenced in things underground by his girlfriend’s family. Jane Asher’s brother was the same Peter who co-founded Indica, and who was also in the duo Peter and Gordon, whose song “World Without Love” was both written and produced by McCartney.

The Ashers also introduced Paulie to the music of John Cage, which would later influence his song, “A Day in the Life.” Further, it was his producer George Martin who would call Paul’s attention to electronic music and atonal sounds, such as those by Karl Stockhausen (who, is my guess, also had an influential hand in the Velvet Underground’s sounds, such as with “European Son”).  

The final bit to the puzzle of Paul, who would become a de facto silent partner to the movement, was Timothy Leary and his introduction of LSD to the world. No, he didn’t invent the stuff, but he promoted it brilliantly (“turn on, tune in, drop out”). John Lennon, of course, was also right behind, and with the help of reading Nietzsche, and the addition of the psychotropic drug, Lennon would write one of the first psychedelic songs, “Tomorrow Never Knows.” Hooking up with Yoko certainly had its influence, as well, as they posit here.

While all this was going on in the UK, the documentary wisely points out that they were not the only ones producing these sounds, as there were also bands like the Byrds in the States, releasing “Eight Miles High” just three weeks earlier (I would add the Count IV’s “Psychotic Reaction” and the burgeoning Garage scene). In England, there were also other simultaneous bands cropping up with the sound at the same time, such AMMmusic, a UK-based improvisational group. Their influence would be strong on the likes of Syd Barrett and his group Pink Floyd, and the Soft Machine. AMMmusic didn’t last long, but both of these other musical collectives would become identified with the movement, especially Syd Barret (d. 2006). Even on this DVD, there are periods where these other bands get more time than the Beatles around the counter-culture for using sonic techniques, but the Beatles were on top because they had the most widespread influence.

Over time, the scene spawned a central hub club in 1966, when the UFO opened (pronounced You-Foh, not U-F-O; oh, those crazy Brits!), where Pink Floyd (specifically Barrett) and Soft Machine became the musical figureheads of the movement.

An interesting argument given is that at first McCartney was shy about being associated with the UFO and IT, and would show up in disguise (including as a sheik), but in 1966, started arriving as himself. What amusingly crossed my mind is perhaps the real Paul was wary, but after his rumored death in ‘66, the Paul replacement (whom George would amusingly call Fauxl) was not as leery being associated with it..

Over a relatively short time, Paul would lose interest and John would stay involved. This film concludes that it was that incident that broke up the Beatles, rather than Yoko or business dealings, or the whole craziness about who would be their manager. To me that seems a stretch, though it could have been all of it, rather than just the one thing. Anyway, between police raids and times they were a-changin’, the scene would peter out eventually, as all scenes must. 

I’ve only touched on what goes on in this documentary, so it’s still worth a view. The counter-culture in England was definitely different than it was in the States. One thing that seems clear though, is that just like in North America, it was run by men (other than Yoko, I don’t remember a single woman even mentioned here). I remember reading a book about the 1960s Canadian counter-culture called Underground Times by Ron Verzuh (1989), and he makes similar claims about gender politics, not addressed here, but obvious to me seeing who is represented in interviews and discussions.

While there is less music expressed here in recordings than other Chrome Dream docs (and none complete, as is usual), there still is plenty. However, this film has definitely stepped up on getting movers and shakers to the scene, such as a frail and shell-shocked-looking John “Hoppy” Hopkins (d. 2015, who founded IT and organized UFO), a toothless Mick Farren (d. 2013; musician and IT journalist), Robert Wyatt (drummer for Soft Machine), Joe Boyd (founder of UFO and producer of Pink Floyd), and Eddie Provost (drummer of AMMmusic), among others. Journalists are kept at a minimum, so most of the stories are first hand.

The extras include a seven-minute short about the differences between the counter-culture scenes in North America (specifically San Francisco) and the UK titled “Other Side of the Mirror: UK and US Psychedelia,” a list of those interviewed and their accomplishments, and a link to find out more online.

Honestly, I did not know a lot of the British counter-culture history, though more familiar with its North American cousins, so this kept me interested throughout.

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.

 

DVD Review: Gold

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2013
Images from the Internet

                            

Gold

Directed and Organized by Bob Levis and Bill Desloge          
Wild Eye Releasing                        
90 minutes, 1968 / 1972 / 1996 / 2010    
www.WildEyeReleasing.com
www.MVDvisual.com

By 1968, when this film was shot, the Hays Office style of extreme film business gatekeeping was essentially toothless, after years of legislation ripping it of its power, such as proclaiming the studios must be separated from the means of distribution; in other words, the studios could no longer own the theaters. This broke their monopoly, opening up the chance for foreign and independent features. This started early in that decade, giving rise to the likes of the material of Roger Corman and Herschell Gordon Lewis. Yet, this film didn’t see any theaters until it was shown in England in 1972, and had its US premiere in New York in 1996, thanks in part to a minimal number of negatives leading to the film becoming lost.

Continuing with my geekology, social theory shows that trends start with the poor, get picked up by the rich who are trying to show how “cool” they are with the lower social strata, and then by the middle class who are trying to climb the social ladder. Langston Hughes was writing about this in the early part of the 20^th Century in stories like “Slave on the Block” (1933). In this case, the hippies were indigents who were praised and emulated by the Hollywood youth (such as the Fondas).

Put these two together, and you have a perfect storm of the idealistic having enough money to display their incompetence (a drugged version of the Peter Principle, perhaps?). This is not to say I do not respect what they were trying to do¸ because even the punk movement had its reflective moments (think of the British film Jubilee [1978], which has very similar vibes to this one, dealing with similar grand motifs of overbearing systems of control, anarchy, and both the differences and similarities).

That being said, this film was made for about $1000, most of which went to the insurance for the rental of an olde style train used for one day of shooting in the month-long filming, the rest going to equipment, food, and other mind-altering substances. Sure some of the cast and crew were either professionals in the industry already, and others wanted to be, but it is equally obvious that some were there to share in the chemical and herbal vibe. The end result may be considered, using a modern idiom, a hot mess. There is no writing credit for the film because much of it was improvised, and that is easy to figure out pretty quickly.

The stick of the premise is that a second gold rush gets a group of people – er – motivated to head to northern California. There, a small corrupt government springs up among the new town (whose members include Ramblin’ Jack Elliot and Dan Hicks!), and it takes the local loser to rise up and lead la revolución! Truly, for both sides, it is shown that violence is, indeed, inherent in any system, even the loving, herbal kind.

But this is mostly a comedy. Well, actually it is pan-genre, sometimes switching from scene to scene or character to character. When the film starts, it’s a western, and most are dressed accordingly as they board a train headed for the locus of supposed gold (that we never see a hint of other than a mine shaft door near the end). One exception is the villain of the piece, a cop called Harold Jinks (as in, “Jinx! It’s the cops!”), portrayed by Garry Goodrow, who dresses like a 1920s G-man and talks in the quick patter of Jimmy Cagney of that period, see? Yeah, that’s it, see? Jinks is obsessed with control and stopping nudity, something nearly everyone else is swaying and bouncing the other way. Meanwhile, a sexy woman (Caroline Parr) with big – er – hair gets on the same train definitely flashing some legs and belly in a cut-out dress, seemingly right out of Carnaby Street.

At the start of the film, we meet our hero, Hawk (Del Close, d. 1999), who is on crutches. We watch as he almost misses the train and ends up riding underneath it (Close foolishly did his own highly-dangerous stunts, surely empowered by some – er – altered state of mind).

Through much nudity (lots of full frontal of all genders) and multiple trysts, with some nearly prescience to the mud-caked denizens of the Woodstock Festival in the coming year, Jinks goes to the dark(er) side and starts arresting people left and right and puts them into a barbed wired corral (either a pig sty or cow pasture of the commune on which it was filmed). More of the town ends up there than on the outside, of course. Finally, the mayor, not such a wonderful person himself, starts to object, but you’ll see where that leads.

With power corrupting absolutely, in a comment on the war in Vietnam and the then-current Democratic Convention in Chicago that ended in disaster, a hero must arise, with that being Close’s Hawk character (again, a reference to being pro-war).  Easily no longer a western and certainly more an allegory to the then-modern Marxist-influenced groups like the SDS and the Weathermen, you know which way the wind is going to blow when Hawk starts reading Mao’s Little Red Book and quoting Che Guevara, even coming to physically resemble him. With his drunken buddy, LeRoy Acorn (Orville Schell) they start planning a violent coup via a homemade arsenal (including bazooka!). Note that all the main characters are men…I’m just sayin’.

While I won’t give away what happens – and even though I’ve told quite a bit of the story, yet not enough to diminish the fun of the flick – perhaps it’s worth noting how religion plays a background role in the whole mishegoss. There are lots of songs on the soundtrack about Jesus, and Christianity is mentioned or referred to as a recurring motif in the dialog. I am not certain if this was a commentary about church and state, the hypocrisy of how the state sometimes uses religion (e.g., “opiate of the masses”), or it was so imbedded in the filmmakers that it came naturally without regard to its exclusivity of the rest of the culture (and much of the business end of Hollywood at the time).

Speaking of soundtracks, the reissue is very proud of the fact – and rightfully so – of their use of songs by the then-unknown Motor City Five (aka, the MC5), which ups the films credibility among more modern hopelessly obscure nostalgia collectors. You just know there is a whole contingent of First Wave punkers who are going to see this for that reason alone.

Extras include two somewhat interesting full-length commentaries, an hour-long access cable interview with the director, trailers, and more.

Whatever your motivation, or mind-altering substance intake, the sheer insanity of this film makes it worth seeing. There is so much happening, and it takes a vivid snapshot of a counterculture that is the remnant of the original Beat hipsters of its period, much in the way the Ken Kesey Merry Pranksters group did with the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test road trip. Gold is both a throwback and ahead of its time, concurrently. What’s more, it’s groovin’ in these equally harsh times.

 

DVD Review: The Grateful Dead: Dawn of the Dead

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2012
Images from the Internet

Dawn of the Dead: The Grateful Dead & the Rise of the San Francisco Underground
Executive Producer: Rob Johnstone
Narrated by: Thomas Arnold
Sexy Intellectual
138 minutes, 2012
Chromedreams.co.uk
MVDvisual.com

It is not often that Chrome Dreams (CD) takes on a single American band to be the subject of one of their long and detailed documentaries, but it is hardly surprising that they picked arguably the most iconic rock group of ‘60s, The Grateful Dead. For nearly two-and-a-half hours, the viewer gets not only filled in on their history, including prior to the Dead’s formation, but there are tons of clips of songs, music videos and concert footage throughout their career. As usual, CD spares no expense of royalties to give as complete a picture as is reasonable.

As sources for information, there are some of the standard CD cadre of historians and biographers of the San Fran scene, such as David Gans, Richie Unterberger, Robert Christgau, and especially the CD omnipresent Anthony DeCurtis (not meant as a dis). But as I have said in earlier reviews by the company, they have become so much better at getting some of the people who were actually there, rather than only second-hand knowledge writers. Some include Peter Albin (Big Brother and the Holding Company), Mike Wilhelm (the Charlatans, who were the pre-Grateful Dead band), Kenn Babbs (one of the few remaining original Merry Pranksters, who included Ken Kesey, Tom Wolfe, Neal Cassidy, and the rest of the dosing gang), Rock Scully (the Dead’s Manager, 1965-85), and even GD member Tom “TC” Constanten (keyboardist, 1968-70).

Of course, the story of the Grateful Dead is not just about the Dead, but rather the scene they help initiate in San Francisco (as the title states), which included the likes of Janis Joplin and Big Brother and the Holding Company, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Jefferson Airplane, and even Jimi Hendrix (though he was originally from Seattle, he was considered part of the SF scene). Many of these musicians are represented by clips, such as Hendrix’s “Wild Thing” at the infamous Monterey Pop Festival, and Quicksilver’s “All I Ever Wanted to Do (Was Love You),” but this is mostly about the Dead.

There is a wealth of material in the world about the Grateful Dead (GD), one of the most recorded and analyzed bands in the history of modern music (possibly matching even Dylan or the Beatles). This leaves lots of juicy material for CD to choose from, and they pick quite a number of sources, which, of course, is great. Sure, no clip is more than, say, a minute in length (kind of ironic considering the GD are known for songs that could literally go on for hours), but considering the sheer amount they cover, and that they choose a lot of rare live clips, makes this a getter, whether you’re a fan of the band or of the scene (I’m more of the latter).

Along with the music, films and historical narration, there are also bits of interviews from over the years. For example, Jerry Garcia discussed dancing and acid in 1993, one from Phil Lesh that same year describing major labels as “robber barons,” and Bob Weir in 2009 describes how he is just interested in music, not politics.

Whether one is a fan of the band or not is kind of irrelevant, because they were at some many of the important touchstones of the era, including the Acid Tests, the Trips Festival, Bill Graham’s concert reign (they show my fave clip of Graham, which is a fight between him and the Charlatan’s Mike Wilhelm, who describes the incident in the present on this DVD), Haight-Ashbury, the Monterey Pop Festival, and so on. Their presence was key to what we know as the pharmaceutically induced Love Generation.

Again, I would love to see more women interviewed on these histories, perhaps people on the scene, groupies or ex-wives? There is also very little about the many deaths surrounding the band, such as Ron “Pigpen” McKernan and Keith Godcheux. As this delves into the pre-GD period, what is also missing, in my opinion, is about the post-GD. For example, there is Garcia’s teaming with bluegrass musician David Grisman. Then again, perhaps I’m asking for too much considering how much history this actually does cover well.

The bonus is called “Ken Babbs and Walker T. Ryan: Fell in the Crack,” in which Babbs (on trombone) and Ryan (guitar) do a talking blues about Ken Kesey. Interesting and a bit bizarre, yet still fun.



Bonus Video: