Tag Archive for 'music'

The Last Pogo

Published
by
James McNally
on June 15, 2008
in Documentaries and Film Festivals
. 1 Comment

The Last Pogo

The Last Pogo (1978, Director: Colin Brunton): In 1978, I was too young to get into bars, but I was a huge fan of punk rock. Of course, at that young age, I thought it all came from England. It wasn’t until a year or two later that I got into a punk/rockabilly band from Hamilton called Teenage Head. But in 1978, they headlined a rather infamous gig at The Legendary Horseshoe Tavern on Queen Street West in Toronto. Concert promoters Gary Topp and Gary Cormier (”The Two Garys”) were well-known for promoting the best new music, and were booking punk bands into the Horseshoe from the beginning. But by December 1978, they’d lost the lease and were set to move to a new venue, the Edge. They decided to stage a going-away bash with all their favourite local bands, and The Last Pogo is the visual record of that wild night. Featuring The Scenics, The Cardboard Brains, The Mods, The Ugly, The Viletones, and Teenage Head, it was a legendary show which ended with the cops breaking up a near-riot. The film had not been screened theatrically in 30 years, so I was really looking forward to the screening (part of the annual North by Northeast Music and Film Festival), and Brunton had promised that several special guests would be in attendance.

On my way to the screening, I had to pass by the Much Music studios, which for some unknown reason were surrounded by screaming teenage girls. Queen Street was closed off and there was a stage set up as well. Before long, some band of scantily-clad women jumped onstage and sang some forgettable ditty while shaking their junk in perfectly choreographed time. It was ironic that on my way to see some punk history, I had to be subjected to some of the unspeakable horrors of popular music.

I took my seat at the NFB cinema behind a group of rowdy fifty-something punk ladies, who proceeded to hoot and howl all through the film itself. It was rather disturbing. The special guests included Dave Quinton who drummed for The Scenics and later for the Dead Boys, Vince Carlucci from The Cardboard Brains, and a few others, but alas, no one from Teenage Head. And the film itself, though a treasured document of the event, proved to be slightly disappointing. The reason is that as the concert wore on, the club reached and then exceeded its capacity, and just before Hamilton’s finest took the stage, they were notified that they were only permitted to play one song and then the police would be shutting the place down. Understandably, the place went nuts, and so the footage from their performance isn’t the greatest. I even think the audio is out of sync.

Interestingly enough, Teenage Head would be at the centre of another riot a few years later, and for the same reasons. When they played the Ontario Place Forum, hundreds of fans were locked out after the venue reached capacity, and the resulting riot caused the management of Ontario Place to ban rock concerts for many years. Luckily, I was prepared and had arrived early. It was one of only two times I saw the band live. The other was at my high school, and was forgettable because in my excitement, I’d consumed an entire mickey of rye, became separated from my friends, and peed my pants. I was so mortified that I ran home, missing most of the show.

In happier news, director Brunton has spent the past two years filming and editing an expanded version of the film, to be called The Last Pogo Jumps Again. He’s revisited many of the players from that night and I’m eagerly looking forward to the film’s release, tentatively planned for Hot Docs 2009. It was also through him that I found out that writer Liz Worth has written what looks to be the definitive history of punk in Toronto. Treat Me Like Dirt: An Oral History of Punk in Toronto and Beyond, 1976-1981 should be released this year. I’ve been wanting to write this book since reading Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain’s incredible Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk, but at least now I’ll be able to read it.

After the screening, I was hoping there would be a Q&A with the director and maybe some of the participants, but no such luck. I was able to speak briefly with both Colin Brunton and Liz Worth, and hope to conduct some short email interviews with them in the next several months.

P.S. It seems strange that it was at this very time and place last year that I was seeing Nightclubbing, another document of those years which is being made into a longer retrospective documentary.

Official site of the film

7/10(7/10)

Screaming Masterpiece (Gargandi snilld)

Published
by
James McNally
on June 13, 2008
in DVD and Documentaries
. 0 Comments

Screaming Masterpiece (Gargandi snilld)

Screaming Masterpiece (Gargandi snilld) (2005, Director: Ari Alexander Ergis Magnússon): Iceland is a nation of just 300,000 and yet over the past twenty years, it has produced a huge number of brilliant musicians, including such globally-known artists as Björk and Sigur Rós. This film vaguely tries to figure out what makes Iceland so special, but wisely keeps the talking heads to a minimum, instead treating us to lots of performances. This allows us to get an overview of just how diverse the music scene is, with everything from feedback-drenched rock to orchestral to electronic to metal to folk. And yes, even hip-hop. My wife and I are travelling to Iceland in late September for the Reykjavik International Film Festival and I wanted to discover a few more bands to seek out while we’re there. Happily, this documentary has added a few new names to my list (Bang Gang, Múm, Apparat Organ Quartet) as well as reinforcing my love for stuff I’ve already heard (Mugison, Amiina, Singapore Sling, Slowblow, Quarashi, and of course, Björk and Sigur Rós).

There is a bit of historical perspective, tying in some of the very old chants and songs created by Iceland’s first inhabitants, but more interesting to me was footage from Fridrik Thor Fridiksson’s 1982 documentary Rokk í Reykjavík, which showed a very young Björk performing with a band called Tappi Tíkarrass, and documented the popularity of punk rock and the rise of the modern music scene there. I think I’ll need to track that down next. Here she is on the cover of the VHS tape:

Rokk í Reykjavík

Overall, this wasn’t groundbreaking filmmaking, but it did a good job of surveying the scene and giving viewers a taste of what makes Icelandic music so special. Special thanks to Thora Gunnarsdottir from the Icelandic Film Centre for hooking me up with a copy of the film. And check back in the fall for coverage of the Reykjavik International Film Festival, where hopefully we’ll be able to see a number of new Icelandic films. If you think the music scene is good, consider that almost every creative person in Iceland expresses himself in more than one medium. Slowblow’s Dagur Kári Petursson, for instance, also directed Nói albínói (2003) (review). So we’re excited to be spending some time in this creative hotbed, and will have plenty to report, I’m certain.

Official site for the film

Purchase the DVD from Amazon.com
Purchase the DVD from Amazon.ca

7/10(7/10)

Wild Combination

Published
by
James McNally
on May 25, 2008
in Documentaries, Film Festivals and Inside Out
. 0 Comments

Wild Combination

Wild Combination (2007, Director: Matt Wolf): Until about a year ago, I’d never heard of Arthur Russell. A classically-trained cellist who died at the age of 40 in 1992, Russell was in danger of falling into obscurity. But then something wonderful happened. Those closest to him began to re-release some of the music he created and suddenly a man who seemed out of his time while alive began to influence a new generation of musicians. The 2004 compilation Calling Out of Context is a good place to begin. It was around the time of that CD release that director Matt Wolf became familiar with Russell, and decided to make the film.

Russell was born and raised in Oskaloosa, Iowa, but ran away to San Francisco while still in his teens, where he joined a Buddhist commune. It was in San Francisco that he made the acquaintance of Allen Ginsberg, and the two remained friends and collaborators for years to come. Russell soon followed Ginsberg to New York, where he soon become part of the artistic landscape at The Kitchen. Part of the avant-garde scene that included Philip Glass, Russell wrote and performed here regularly, often singing along with his cello-playing. It was during this period that Russell began to acknowledge his homosexuality, eventually meeting and falling in love with Tom Lee, who was (and remains) a tireless supporter of his work. His involvement in the gay scene introduced him to underground discotheques, and soon he was writing dance music under aliases such as Dinosaur L, Indian Ocean and Loose Joints. Though he achieved some modest commercial success with these records, he never really made a breakthrough, perhaps because his talent was too big to be confined to one type of music. The film features a generous selection of his work, and it ranges from avante-garde to dance to pop to folk rock, all of it accompanied by Russell’s utterly unique singing voice. He used his voice as another instrument but it gave all of his music a slightly odd quality, making it commercially unappealing at the time. It didn’t help that he was a perfectionist, rarely feeling that a record was “finished” and making it extremely difficult for him to take direction from others. Later in his life, he began to exhibit symptoms of paranoia, feeling that other musicians were stealing his ideas.

Matt Wolf has made an immersive film that rightfully foregrounds the music, often accompanying it with evocative scenes of the vast Iowa landscape that seems to have informed Russell’s work. Another musical theme was the expansiveness of water, and perhaps it was this desire for open space that led Russell to spend so much time on the Staten Island Ferry, scenes which Wolf has recreated by filming with vintage video cameras. I had a mixed reaction upon learning that so much of the “archival” footage in the film was recreated. As Wolf explains, there just wasn’t that much real archival footage to work with, but I think I would have preferred that the film itself carried some disclaimer that the footage wasn’t authentic instead of having to hear it from him in the Q&A. But don’t let that stop you from seeing the film. For those with some familiarity with Arthur Russell, it will fill in the picture behind the music, but more importantly, it will help you to introduce the work of this undisputed genius to your friends.

Here is the Q&A with director Matt Wolf from after the screening:


Duration: 13:43

Official site of the film
Teaser

8/10(8/10)

Anvil! The Story of Anvil

Published
by
James McNally
on April 17, 2008
in Documentaries, Film Festivals and Hot Docs
. 0 Comments

Anvil! The Story of Anvil

Anvil! The Story of Anvil (2008, Director: Sacha Gervasi): I knew within five minutes of the film that I loved these guys, and it took about another five minutes for me to decide I was buying a CD from them (NOTE: Available from either of the two links below). That’s not an easy sell. You see, I grew up here in Toronto, Anvil’s hometown, during the 1980s, when the band had its closest brush with success. “Metal on Metal” was played on the radio here, and it’s quite possible I watched some of the archival television coverage (some of it featuring news anchor John Roberts, then known as J.D. Roberts) when it wasn’t archival. But I was no metalhead. I was into punk, and then new wave, and the metal “hair” bands of the 80s just seemed embarrassingly uncool to me. In this film, that uncoolness has been turned into charm. But it’s been a long hard road for Anvil.

Director Sacha Gervasi actually met the band in London in 1982, and then decided to work as a roadie for them on a cross-Canada tour. He lost touch about 1985, and then, 20 years later, decided to look up his old friends on the internet. What he discovered amazed him. They hadn’t given up. In fact, they were still making records and playing bars, even if it was only to crowds of 100. Gervasi, meanwhile, had travelled far from his metal roots. After attending law school, he got involved in the film business, recently writing the script for the Tom Hanks film The Terminal. He knew immediately he wanted to make a film about the band, and his personal connection with Anvil makes the film a loving tribute.

Steve “Lips” Kudlow and Robb Reiner were two Jewish kids growing up in Toronto in the 70s. They bonded over a love for the music of Black Sabbath and Grand Funk, and were soon writing songs together. More than 30 years and several lineup changes later, they’re still making music together. The film is as much a portrait of a lifelong friendship as it is about the cruelty of the music business. Through all the ups and (mostly) downs, Lips and Robb are like brothers. Gervasi picks up the story around 2005 when guitarist Ivan’s new Italian girlfriend Tiziana offers to arrange a European tour for them. Her passion overcomes their reservations about her inexperience, with predictable results. Transportation problems abound, and the crowds are always smaller than anticipated. Local promotion doesn’t come through, and the band are rarely paid. Despite that, Lips remains upbeat, happy to be touring at all.

After their return to Toronto, Anvil are ready to record their next album. They decide to approach engineer Chris Tsangarides, who recorded them early in their career, to see if he’s interested in working with them again. To their surprise, he’s interested, and after borrowing money from friends and family, the band fly to England to record their 13th album, cleverly entitled “This is Thirteen.” Another round of conflict between Robb and Lips ensues, but all ends in tearful hugs and the album is finished. Lips buzzes that the band has never sounded as good. Despite that, they can’t get any record companies interested in releasing it, so they decide to go direct and sell it themselves.

Throughout it all, Robb and especially Lips come across as incredibly open-hearted and even sweet guys. One memorable scene has Lips, in an attempt to earn some money, working as a telemarketer. He doesn’t last very long before he confesses that he’s just too honest. His somewhat goofy face may be the reason that the band never achieved the success of bands like Metallica or Anthrax or Slayer, but he’s incapable of being anyone else. Now in their 50s, Robb and Lips still haven’t cut their thinning hair, and though they look a bit out of place among their brothers and sisters, their families (especially their long-suffering wives) have been incredibly patient, if not always supportive.

The film ends with a lovely grace note. After receiving a call from a concert promoter in Japan, Anvil are invited to open a metal festival in front of a potential audience of 20,000. Gervasi poignantly inserts footage from the Super Rock tour of Japan the band played in 1984, and I swear that the goofy grin on Lips’ face is even wider now than it was then. When the lights came up, I was sporting my own goofy grin, as well as a small lump in the throat.

If there was anything missing from the film, it might be the absence of two of the three members of the unholy trinity of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Despite a reference early on from Robb about having to throw away his drugs during a border crossing in Europe, we never see any of the partying for which bands in general, and metal bands in particular, were legendary. These guys can still rock out, clearly, but it would have been interesting to see if they still party like young guys.

Just as an aside, during Anvil’s brief heyday in the early 80s, I was into a rockabilly-punk band from Hamilton called Teenage Head. Their career has had a similar trajectory, with lots of missed chances at fame, and an enduring legacy as “also-rans” among bands with arguably much less talent. Though I was never a roadie for them, this film has me thinking of making “Teenage Head! The Story of Teenage Head.” Frankie and Legs, get in touch!

Here is the Q&A with director Sacha Gervasi and the band from after the screening:


Duration: 12:10

Official site for the film
Official site of the band

9/10(9/10)

The Singing Revolution

Published
by
James McNally
on April 6, 2008
in Documentaries and Theatrical Release
. 4 Comments

The Singing Revolution

Editor’s Note: I have to make particular mention of the film’s excellent and comprehensive web site. The directors have done a great job using the web to generate interest and obtain screening dates in cities across North America. As a result of audience interest expressed on the web site, the film will open in Toronto on April 25th and play until May 1st (with a possible extension depending on ticket sales) at the Carlton Cinema. Check the link the week before for showtimes.

The Singing Revolution (2006, Directors: James Tusty and Maureen Castle Tusty): My wife and I are big fans of small countries. We will visit Iceland this fall and have taken holidays in Cuba, Slovenia and Uruguay in the past few years. There’s something inspiring about the indomitability of small nations, especially if they’ve been forcefully occupied or dominated by other countries. Estonia certainly fits the bill, and my dream trip is to one day spend a week each in Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania. James Tusty and Maureen Castle Tusty are a husband and wife team who have documented the unique struggle of Estonia to emerge from the Soviet Union as an independent nation, and they’ve created a wonderful film.

For most of its history, Estonia has been dominated by much larger countries, and the 20th century was particularly cruel. This country of just over a million gained its independence in 1920 only to be invaded by the Soviet Union in 1939. As World War II raged, Hitler’s armies occupied Estonia as part of their invasion of the Soviet Union, and so there was another foreign occupier. By 1944, though, the Nazis had been expelled by the resurgent Red Army and for the better part of the next half-century, Estonia was occupied by Soviet troops and forcibly integrated into the USSR. But Estonia also had a very strong cultural tradition of folk singing, and despite its small size, possesses one of the largest collections of folk songs in the world. Every five years since 1869, a huge folk singing festival called Laulupidu was held in the university town of Tartu. At these events, huge choirs of 25,000-30,000 would sing on stage at the same time, expressing their unity and pride in their national identity. During the Soviet occupation, these festivals were practically the only allowed outlet for Estonian culture, despite being, for the most part co-opted to promote Communist ideas. At the end of the official program (Communist songs sung in Russian), the choirs were allowed to sing three or four songs in Estonian. At the 1947 festival, Estonian composer Gustav Ernasaks presented a new song he’d written based on a century-old Estonian poem. “Mu isamaa on minu arm” (“Land of My Fathers, Land That I Love”) became the unofficial Estonian national anthem and was sung lustily by the crowds at each festival. In 1969, at the centennial of the festival, the Soviet authorities banned it, but the crowds spontaneously took it up and sang it several times. It’s clear how much singing and this festival meant to the Estonian national identity.

When Mikhail Gorbachev came to power in 1985 with his policies of “glasnost” and “perestroika”, the Estonians saw their chance to reclaim their culture and their independence. Political dissidents used music to inspire protest, and by 1991, Estonia had declared independence. Unlike its Baltic neighbours Latvia and Lithuania, there was no violence despite the threat of Soviet retaliation. The Estonian character values patience. As narrator Linda Hunt expresses it, “patience is a weapon, caution, a virtue.” Because of their small size, the Estonian resistance knew it could never triumph by force, and so they carefully navigated a very delicate process and achieved a practically bloodless victory. The film does a good job of documenting these amazing and tension-filled days.

Today, Estonia is a thriving democracy, a member of NATO and the European Union. The music festival continues, and for those who were involved in this still-fresh revolution, it is a place to share their memories with their children. And of course to sing “Mu isamaa on minu arm”, loudly and without fear.

If I have one small criticism of the film, it would be its microscopic focus on Estonia to the exclusion of the other Baltic Republics. There are a few tantalizing mentions of events going on in Latvia and Lithuania (in particular, a protest where citizens of all three countries joined hands and created a 600km long human chain to protest the Soviet occupation), but it would have been enlightening to see in more detail how these three small countries worked together to take on the entire Soviet Union. Three distinct cultures, yes, but also three necessary allies. Perhaps that story will have to wait for my own trip.

Official Site
Trailer

8/10(8/10)