Mötley Crüe: The End

Tags

Mötley Crüe, Mick Mars, Nikki Sixx, The End, Tommy Lee, Vince Neill

http://www.music-news.com/review/UK/12170/Live/M%C3%B6tley-Cr%C3%BCe

Thirty-four year$ on the end ha$ finally arrived for the am-glam-dram cartooni$h quartet. Thi$ revealing and (unintentionally) amu$ing documentary bringing the ultimate curtain down on their hi$trionic$. A film that reveal$ more by what it doe$n’t $how: unity, harmony and friend$hip.

The film i$ de$igned to give the feeling of ‘being there’ and it certainly achieve$ that. Foren$ic camera angle$ cover all and $undry, from Mick Mar$’$ fret-w%&king clo$e-up$ to Vince Neil’$ pore$, a$ a $pectator you are clo$er than the band are. Let me elaborate.

Beginning with a behind the $cene$ $et-up, a $lo-mo vi$age of the artifice required for thi$ most $howy of group$, the roadie$ and technician$ are given talk-time, thereby $ignalling the only example of unity to come. The di$cord is palpable. There’$ only one rea$on for thi$ ‘reformation’.

The $pectacle: all UFO/Mother $hip backdrop, the only $emblance of $tructure on $how. The four$ome are all addled in all way$, recovering without di$covering, a real life $pinal Tap (hilariously enacted when Tommy Lee’$ rollercoa$ting drum-FX break$ down halfway through).

Like the much-vaunted (and equally avariciou$) $tone Ro$e$ ‘re-union’ thi$ i$ the ultimate ca$h in, a$ a $tudy of rubbing each other up and how $$$$ can re$olve even the bittere$t of acrimony (albeit temporary) then thi$ i$ IT.

The individual/$eparate interview$ illu$trate conflicting memorie$ and contradictory recollection$, thi$ is no ‘group’ anymore, all a front for $$$$$$$.

On vox: Vince Neil, all puffed up and padded out $ince his halcyon day$. Clocking in to clock off.

Art $tring$: Mick Mar$: a waxwork cadaver, arthritic axeman, the mo$t likeable member, on the level and ego-free, open and revealing.

On bongo$: Tommy Lee and his prote$tation$: ‘I can’t do IT anymore … the $ame thing every night’ (unle$$ greenback$ are wafted, yeah?).

Plücker: Nikki $ixx’s tiresome ‘I died, ya know’ demeanour and born-again $en$e of betterment, hi$ cabaret knife-$tabbing $ymbolic of a lo$t edge.

The phoney camaraderie/bonhomie and actual di$tance between them i$ there for all to $ee, barely a $midgen of intimacy on $tage. It’$ hard to hide $uch indifference.

For a band $o ‘notoriou$ for exce$$ and over-con$umption’ © no one i$ seen drinking in the crowd, all high on memorie$ and low on genuine $timulation, thi$ i$ ‘Uncle $am’s Prohibition 2.0’, a premonitory $ign of cultural decay and $edate-$tate. It’s worryingly too remini$cent of a Nuremberg/MuriKKKa Con-Dem hypno-rally. The di$play of phone light(er$) the only ‘modern’ di$clo$ure.

Thi$ film i$ a mu$t-$ee: for a reminder of rock’$ lo$t pa$t, for the depre$$ing prod of how money i$ at the root of EVERYTHING. If you only $ee one film this year that typifie$ broken (beyond repair) friend$hip and a la$t ga$p at hi$toricity, it i$ The End.

$o, Muttley’$ Crew, the end ha$ come, thank$ for the memorie$.

Twisted Sister – ‘We Are Twisted Fucking Sister’

Tags

Andrew Horn, Bad boys (of rock 'n' roll), Come out and play, Dee Snider, Eddie Ojeda, Fast Eddie, Gary Bushell, JJ French, Lemmy, Mark Mendoza, Martin Hooker, Mike Portnoy, Motorhead, Pete Way, Secret Records, Sounds, Stay Hungry, Twisted Sister, UFO, Under the Blade, We Are Twisted Fuckin' Sister, You can't stop rock 'n' roll

Intro: The Tube, 1982, after years of plugging, gigging, slogging and epitomising Malcolm Gladwell’s ’10,000 hours’ outliers’ hypothesis’ the ‘break’ happens.

A chronological origin story based ostensibly around stoic founder and ‘pragmatist’ JJ. French and the extravagant banshee Dee Snider prodigious archive footage captures the essence of the early days. The film tells the story of a band full of belief yet bedevilled by misfortune. What doesn’t kill ya …

Snider’s writing chops (plus girlfriend Suzette’s eye for ‘style’) soon became an obsession-objective to ‘obliterate French’ (‘I was maniacal, malicious … and I did it!’) and be accepted on level terms. This pseudo-fratricide driving the band on.

Raucous gigs (‘drop ‘til you vomit’) saw owners asking the band to play so their fans could destroy the venue, on one occasion even appropriating the urinals (literally taking the piss) which helped establish the notoriety of the band, but, threatened to give the band the wrong rep (considering Snider and French are tea-total and drug free).

The ‘Disco Sucks’ rock vs disco ‘war’ saw French ‘exploit the sociological break’ with one gig stringing up a Barry White effigy which was horribly misconstrued so next time they had Andrea ‘More, More, More’ True in an electric chair. Snider’s on-stage persona became more confrontational birthing the ‘non-fan club’ ‘The ‘Sick Mother Fuckers of Twisted Sister’.

Despite packing in up to 5000 fans a night they were still without a deal. A major gig at the Palladium embodied their chance at last. Tragedy #1: guitarist Ojeda suffered a seizure, gig postponed. A rearranged gig attracted scant interest apart from Epic Records whose head, Lenny Pizzi, wanted a private show at 11.00 a.m. only for him to leave early without covering the costs leaving the band out of pocket.

Tragedy #2: In 1981 the US drinking age changed, shutting many fans out meaning less bookings. Tragedy #3: Hamburg’s X Records signed them only for the boss to have a heart attack on the plane back. No dice.

However, ‘Oi-boy’ Gary Bushell at Sounds championed the band seeing parallels between their angry, foul-mouthed working class attitude-laden anthems and the febrile societal tension in the UK. Joe Dolce they weren’t. Signing to Martin Hooker’s UK punk label Secret Records, they recorded debut Under The Blade (produced by UFO’s Pete Way) in Britain which saw Atlantic Records sniff round then … Tragedy #4: Hooker’s business partner ran off with the finances.

Despite ‘angel on Earth’ Lemmy introducing them at festivals the band still got pelted with human excrement and peaches, Snider offering to meet the haters personally. No one took him up on it.

The memorable appearance on The Tube, helped by bringing estranged Motorheaders Lemmy and Fast Eddie on stage, saw Atlantic relent despite chief Doug Morris maintaining ‘they suck’ only to be told ‘Yes, but they will sell’. Sell they did, going on to shift more than a million copies of 1984’s Stay Hungry album. Ten years to be an overnight success.

Andrew Horn’s film is expertly made, even if you’re not a fan of the band this is an exhilarating and entertaining story of resilience, sheer hard work, devout fandom, record-label greed and (finally) the break.

Gary Numan: Android in La La Land – Music, Madness, Love, Loss … & Second Chances

Tags

Android in La La Land, Are Friends Electric?, ‘We Are So Fragile, Beserker, Billy Corgan, Cars, Dance, Exile, Gary Numan, Listen to my voice, Loss.... & Second Chances, Love, M.E. Basement Jaxx, Madness, Me! I Disconnect from You, Metal, Music, Nine Inch Nails, Pure, Replicas, Rob Alexander, Smashing Pumpkins, Splinter, Steve Read, Stories, Telekon, The Fury, The Joy Circuit, This Disease, This is new love, Trent Reznor, Tricky, Where's your head at, You are in my vision

‘You are in my vision, I can’t turn my face’

‘Stories’ (Dance 1981)

A stylistic mish-mash of ‘Let’s move to …’ with VH1’s Behind the Music, this fly-on-the-wall film documents the story of electro-bot avatar Gary Numan. Archive footage is interspersed with a warts ‘n’ all charting of Numan’s career, marriage and life-saving relocation to the USA taking in copious ups and downs culminating in a Hollywood ending.

‘Complex’ (The Pleasure Principle 1979)

Shy, awkward Gary Webb abandoned his punk dreams metamorphasising into ‘Gary Numan’ (new-man). Inspired by sci-fi doyen Phillip K. Dick and dystopia-teller J.G. Ballard’s tales of androids and the (supposed) security-blanket of technology and augmented by the bourgeoning synth-sound success ensued with the future-shock anthem ‘Are Friends Electric’ and the ever-kinetic ‘Cars’.

‘This Disease’ (The Fury 1985)

Long perceived as diffident and rude (which in turn helped cement his ‘alien-other’ persona) he was diagnosed with Aspergers in his 40s, finally explaining his uncommunicativeness around others and his fascination with technology which perplexed his Dad who shown interviewed in 1980 blithely says ‘I’ve grown to like his music, his lyrics, don’t understand them … don’t know where he gets it from’.

‘Something’s in the House’ (Tubeway Army 1979)

Commercial success in the face of critical disdain saw him retreat to a house in the country, secluding himself off into the smallest room (re)watching Monty Python and living off chips with a dinghy for company. This way madness lies, the ‘paranoid android’ haemorrhaging money, his career nosedived, bruised by fame’s fleeting game.

‘This is new love’ (Berserker 1984)

In a tale straight from Jackie, super-fan (and future wife) Gemma O’Neill landed a date with her idol, an image-shattering recollection fondly recalled in the film (‘I went to his house and he was wearing moccasins’).

‘Exile’ (Exile 1997)

A rift with Numan’s parents resulted in the family leaving the countryside and ‘domesto-city’ for pastures new and hoped for salvation in Los Angeles.

‘Me! I Disconnect from You’/ ‘We Are So Fragile’ (Replicas 1979)

2009 – 2011 saw both Gemma and Numan experiencing severe lows, respectively creative stasis and post-natal depression; both with prescription pill dependency. Being away from ‘home’ and both on anti-depressants pushed them apart, the two years remembered as ‘all shit’.

‘The Joy Circuit’ (Telekon 1980)

The release of 2013’s Splinter signified a resurrection, rejuvenation and revival Lazarus would be proud of. The album reached number 20, his first hit since 1983’s Warriors, a rebirth creatively, critically and cathartically. His muse was back, the music followed.

This new lease of life led to his first tour in 7 years, a reconciliation with his parents and Numan embracing the touring rigmarole, the album launch capturing him anxious (‘everything’s in place so something must go wrong’) yet still adored, finally at ease with the fame game.

‘Listen to my voice’ (Pure 2000)

His influence prevails to this day with those adopting the stark, dystopic themes and sound ranging from trip-hopping Tricky to US alt-Pumpkin Billy Corgan and Nine Inch Nail Trent Reznor. Basement Jaxx appropriating ‘M.E’s swirling organ sound for 2001’s ‘Where’s your head at’

Numan is forever frank, affable and endearingly still the same shy outsider that captivated many 40 years ago. Numan is human … in moccasins.

‘Plug me in and turn me on’

The Most Dangerous Band In The World: The Story of Guns N’ Roses

Tags

Appetite for Destruction, Axl Rose, Duff McKagan, Guns 'n Roses, Hanoi Rocks, Izzy Stradlin, John Brewer, Mike Monroe, Slash, Steven Adler, The Most Dangerous Band In The World: The Story of Guns N’ Roses

http://www.music-news.com/review/UK/11656/Live/Guns-N-Roses

Guns N’ Roses are one of the most successful rock bands of all time with 1987’s debut album (the portentously titled) Appetite for Destruction going on to sell over 30 million copies. After convening on LA’s Sunset Strip in 1985, a place habited by ‘wannabees, dreamers and schemers’, they eventually became the most successful of the ‘hair bands’

This entertaining and timely documentary from John Brewer is comprised of numerous talking heads (original drummer Steven Adler (now paralysed following a stroke) his replacement Matt Sorum, Slash, A&R Tom Zutaut, Michael Monroe, the bug-eyed Hanoi Rocks man, original manager, Vicki Hamilton) and features previously unseen footage courtesy of the ‘6th Beatle’ (surely it should have been the 6th G-Rose?) Slash’s childhood friend, Marc Canter, who overly permeates the film in contrast with the indomitable Axl Rose whose archived presence only symbolises his absence (so too Izzy Stradlin and Duff McKagan).

A slow-burning phenomenon that deployed strippers on stage and antagonised their crowds, their riotous spectacles (including Rose and Adler’s girlfriend’s live ‘show’ on stage) catapulted them into the big time. The London Marquee gig and the ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ video cemented their ascent. With success follows excess and what goes up must come down.

The result is a toxic triptych tale of fame, money and drugs culminating in litigation and disintegration within seven heady years. An ousted Adler suing, Slash and McKagan further succumbing to hedonism, Stradlin quitting for his own sanity and Rose becoming more repressed and violent, continually arriving hours late for shows only to then jump into the crowd to assault fans taking photographs.

The story ends in 1993 following The Spaghetti Incident, the band becoming a Rose solo venture reaching 2008’s terminally gestated Chinese Democracy to the recent news that they are to reform for this year’s Coachella festival.

A 2011 interview with McKagan has him responding to a question of reformation with ‘We would reunite for the right rea$on$’ what might they be then, Duff? Unfinished bu$ine$$? Without Stradlin and Adler IS it Guns ‘n’ Roses or just Trigger’s Broom? The ring of steel at Coachella best be prepared for the phalanx of narcissists and their prying lenses.

Tellingly the film highlights how fearful, sedate and controlled today’s music scene is, these were extreme ways of living, but, at least they were fearless, exciting and risqué, ‘generation gap’ music. It’s hard to even imagine Ed Sheeran saying ‘Shit’ without apologising to his fan base. The offensive existing only in the likes of his and his kin’s oeuvre.

Guns ‘n’ Roses: notorious without doubt. Dangerous, only to themselves.

The Ecstasy of Wilko Johnson

Tags

Dr Feelgood, Julien Temple, The Ecstasy of Wilko Johnson, Wilko Johnson

Prologue B.C. (before cancer)

Wilko Johnson, erstwhile guitarist of Dr Feelgood came to further prominence in Julien Temple’s 2009 Oil City Confidential which told the story of the pub-rock, pre-punk pioneers with the stark, seaside mudscape of Canvey Island, Essex as the backdrop.

This time Johnson is the subject but for very different reasons. What began as a biopic suddenly became a ‘die-opic’ as Johnson was diagnosed with inoperable cancer in 2013, given 10 months tops now it was how to capture such an iconoclastic character facing a mortality check.

Act I

A portrait of the artist as a young man taking in his childhood and the roots of his life-long struggles with melancholy, the rare occasion he appears vulnerable is when talking about his Dad (‘a violent man’) and Mum (‘I don’t remember her ever kissing me’) and how this has perma-affected the way he is (or was). Much more bitter sweet is his demonstrable grieving when talking about his beloved wife Irene, who died in 2004.

Illness thrust him to the forefront becoming a regular on television discussing his decision to shun Big Pharma with his upbeat demeanour manna for the televangelists, ‘I’m pleased to have it’ he cheerfully announces. An indefinite future freed him up from the binds of any ‘future’.

A voracious reader from childhood, his stoic outlook and perception of ‘death’ are arguably informed by his passion for such works as Milton’s Paradise Lost, Icelandic folklore and Shakespeare, his memory undimmed as he recites passage after passage, text upon text with relish.

A deeply philosophical person free of the dogma of religious cul-de-sacism, ever dispensing with proverbs: ‘what cannot be cured, must be endured’ and aphorisms ‘if it’s going to kill me I don’t want it to bore me’ … ‘sense of tumour’. Un-cowed he completed what was believed to be his ultimate album with Roger Daltrey titled Going Back Home (‘back to oblivion’).

The Feelgood footage is a bold reminder of a lifetime ago, Wilko all kinetic and frenetic in regulation black (an overt representation of his inner mood) in contrast to Lee Brilleaux in his white suit, yin and yang, brothers in arms.

Temple’s filmmaking technique, his collages and extensive archive footage is akin to Adam Curtis in their forensic and meticulous implementation, literary referencing and poetic image precision. Every image or excerpt is perfectly (e.g. David Niven in A Matter of Life and Death, Tarkovsky’s Stalker) juxtaposed with Wilko’s ruminations and philosophical musings wonderfully articulated by an evocation of the chess scene with Death from Bergman’s ‘The Seventh Seal’ one of many visual alliterations of life/growth and death/wither. Ever incisive, meaningful and inspirational.

Act II

Eighteen months into the sentence fate intervened with fan Charlie Chan, a photography mad-doctor who was aghast at Wilko not only being alive, but running manically still round stage. Referred to another doctor with a 15% survival rate, he went under with a 3 kilogramme tumour removed. When told he is free of the disease he experiences less of a ‘pow’ moment, feeling less elation, the onset of death more wondrous and life-changing than ‘staying alive’.

Epilogue

If you’re not touched by this masterful piece of story-telling and it doesn’t make you ponder your own existence then you’re already dead. He does it right … the future is indeed unwritten … this is the only ‘feelgood’ film you need to see this year and any … *groans whilst wiping tears away*

Music films (or films about music)

Tags

Gigslutz, Peter Watkins, Privilege, Slade, Slade in Flame

http://www.gigslutz.co.uk/10-of-the-best-music-feature-films/

Slade in Flame

Brummie-cartoon-yob-glammers Slade outdid themselves in 1975 when playing fictional rock band ‘Flame’ in a film Mark Kermode calls ‘The Citizen Kane of Rock Musicals’.

Eschewing a caper-led narrative in keeping with their peppy-media image the story is one of a tight group of friends in two bands of varying ability who merge and are then catapulted to success as a result of talent and the malevolent tendencies of the ‘biz’; the vengeful and violent repercussions of a rejected manager and the Machiavellian designs of a careerist Tom Conti.
Derived from actual events experienced by both the band and their manager (former Animal) Chas Chandler, this all-too familiar tale is a stark reminder of the perils of success and how the pursuit of dreams can result in nightmares. Jaded and embittered by the experience the band go their separate ways emotionally crippled and creatively bankrupt. The film featured a strong soundtrack featuring one of Slade’s best known songs, ‘How does it feel?’

Privilege

Peter Watkins (Punishment Park’ ‘The War Game’) directed this 1967 tale of a pop star who is nothing more than a puppet of the authorities (church and state) who have elevated him to messianic status, an adjunct of the system existing to manipulate and subdue impressionable young fans.

Inspired by the hysteria surrounding early 60s teen-idol Paul Anka it stars Manfred Mann’s Paul Jones as Stephen Shorter, the clean-cut, butter-wouldn’t melt turn riven with anxiety at his complicity in the seduction. The film’s prescience is evident in how rebellion and free-thought can be co-opted, neutered and refracted through media and ‘celebrity’ resulting in passivity. The film is a terrifying allegory for how the system diverts political challenge by young people. Set during the ‘swinging’ 60s its themes are depressingly even more relevant today, if not more so (control and illusion of autonomy via social media, technology).

This is a parable of codified and commodified rebellion employed to control perception and to endorse consumerism. This pioneering (thematically and cinematically) and misunderstood film was unsurprisingly derided by its targets at the time, obviously too close for comfort. It couldn’t happen … could it?

Spandau Ballet: Soul Boys of the Western World

Tags

Gary Kemp, George Hencken, John Keeble, Martin Kemp, Melchester Rovers, Roy of the Rovers, Soul Boys of the Western World, Spandau ballet, Steve Norman, Tony Hadley

Employing a style similar to the Rolling Stones documentary ‘Crossfire Hurricane’, Spandau Ballet: Soul Boys of the Western World’ uses archive footage, riveting library film and fresh commentary from the band to create an impassioned and loving document about a band who despite global success are known yet unknown. This film redresses the balance.

Director George Hencken has lovingly assembled a document using wonderful archive footage, her tenure with Julien Temple (The Filth and the Fury, Oil City Confidential) in full evidence with exquisite context setting and numerous ventures down memory lane.

The film is narrated by Robert Elms; scenester, man about town and the person responsible for rechristening the band after seeing it scrawled on toilets in Berlin. This rebranding injecting fresh impetus allowing them to leave their punk imitation act behind and draw on shared passions such as soul and funk allied to reinvention.

Comprised of five uniquely individual characters: Gary Kemp the autocrat, Tony Hadley the single-minded vox box, John Keeble the voice of reason and lynchpin, the fragile and endearing Steve Norman and the laconic Martin Kemp the documentary tells a familiar tale of hard work, dedication, sheer will, friendship, success, acrimony and redemption this is a classic rock and roll tale of ‘money, drugs, women and ego’. In the elder Kemp’s case he had the latter in spades. Leader, dictator and sole songwriter he took control in every way and without his drive they wouldn’t have got out of Islington. When questioned about his song writing he admits that he is scared of being outdone by the others if they decided to take it up, his panic at a loss of control clear to see. Equally, a scene where Norman and Hadley are asked about the subject they react as if it’s never crossed their minds yet the penny appears to drop that they might be captives in Kemp’s vision prison.

The film has a telling photograph of him reading ‘The Prince’ by Machiavelli on a plane, the go-to-tome of how to rule so beloved of political power players. There are also visible signs of tension etched on his face when Tony Hadley makes a quip about Japan (the country!) not buying the records and when asked about Steve Norman’s theatrics and subsequent knee rupture that resulted in the cancellation of a lucrative US tour. Compared to today’s PR orchestrated, scripted and media trained, charisma-free droids, episodes like these add further credence to the mantra ‘the camera never lies’; these are revealing insights.

The bleak end of the 1970s and the dawn of the 80s saw the emergence of the Blitz Club in London with its crowd of wannabes, gonnabes and never weres and Spandau capitalised on this nascent energy and ran with it. Along with Visage’s Steve Strange and Rusty Egan, attendees such as Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s Martin Degville, Boy George, the androgynous Marilyn has parallels with the Sex Pistols gig at Manchester Free Trade Hall in 1976 where such luminaries as Morrissey, Paul Morley, Buzzcocks and Mick Hucknall took inspiration to become what and who they are. The thriving scene was a site of transformation, of wonderment and escapism. Where the marginalised, ostracised and disenfranchised went to be free, be and create.

Following the success of the still future echo ‘New Pop’ of ‘To Cut a Long Story Short’ and the nu-soul sheen of ‘Gold’ they struggled to compete with their peers (Duran Duran, Human League) resorting to jumping on bandwagons (and a residency in St Tropez) until they hit the spot with the world bestriding ‘True’ in 1983 that classic end of school disco anthem.

Unsurprisingly, burn-out occurred as a result of success demanding more and familiarity breeding contempt. By 1990 after 10 years of incessant recording, touring and promoting, the band split. The Kemps ventured into the acting world starring in The Krays, an interview with them on set at the time starkly illustrating the breakdown in the friends’ relations, appearing astonished at the notion of them being in the group.

In 1986 they released their final Top Ten hit, ‘Through the Barricades’ which arguably is their epitaph Inspired by the shooting in Northern Ireland of a crew member the spirit of the song came to exemplify them in more ways than one. No more than in 1999 when after a gap of nine years Hadley, Keble and Norman took songwriter Kemp to court over unpaid royalties, a perennial bone of contention. Like The Smiths’ pecuniary episode three years earlier (where Mike Joyce successfully sued Morrissey and Marr) the argument reigned as to unconscious work and input into half-crafted works, tellingly Tony Hadley said that up until the final studio album Kemp would arrive in the studio with almost formed songs relying on group work to solidify and mould them into complete works. However the result swung in Kemp’s favour pouring more salt into wounds. With that in mind it is remarkable and testament to the healing powers of time and the bonds of friendship that in 2009, almost 20 years since they parted thee band got together again.

Personally, as an avid reader of Roy of the Rovers I was disappointed that there was no mention of the time Martin Kemp and Steve Norman turned out for Melchester Rovers (alongside Bob Wilson and (Kr)Emlyn Hughes no less).

This is a warts and all summary of the exhilaration and insanity of a touring band, the thrill and spills of being young, desired, adored and how friendships can be strained, tested and fractured; capturing the togetherness and unity and subsequent deterioration. The film encapsulates the qualities that Tony Hadley believed the band to espouse, ‘elegance and romance’ and more than the sum of its parts.