A Walk Into The Sea, Wild Combination, Live Saints 

A Walk Into The Sea, DVD cover

Two documentaries about gay men living in New York and making art: Esther Robinson’s “A Walk Into The Sea” unlocks a story hinted at in Jean Stein and George Plimpton’s “Edie” – the disappearance of Factory film-maker and lighting designer Danny Williams in summer 1996. “Edie” hinted that Williams’ presumed death – his clothes were found piled neatly on a Massachusetts beach – was suicide but the film suggests that sheer exhaustion might have played its part. Much more interesting are the insights given into Williams’ life – he was Warhol’s lover for a brief while – and the vicious nature of Factory insider politicking. It now seems clear that Williams was largely responsible for the battery of effects that accompanied the Velvet Underground in the Exploding Plastic Inevitable – which was, in spring 1966, the most advanced attempt yet to capture what Gloria Steinem, in her August 1965 LIFE article on “The Ins and Outs of Pop Culture”, called ‘the spirit of Now’. In 1966, many strands of art, music and entertainment were all coming to the same point, by different means: the total focus on the instant that is the hallmark of: many Eastern religions; the happening; the drug experience; the ecstasy of dancing; the total synaesthesia of Pop Art. After all, as Warhol stated in Newsweek: ‘I guess it’ll all get so simple that everything will be art’. The EPI created an environment of complete instantaneity, FOREVER NOW. However these experiments were being conducted in the face of public indifference, if not hostility, and an atmosphere of unstable, debilitating competitiveness within the Factory itself. Warhol went on to someone else and Williams got bumped from his key role in the EPI. Factor in amphetamine abuse, and the potential for psychic disturbance and physical exhaustion was considerable. Apart from interviews with the remaining Factory players – Paul Morrissey is strangely evasive – the great revelations are the films that Williams shot in the Factory during 1966: there is one orgiastic sequence, a snake pit of writhing bodies, that is not reproduced in any of Warhol’s films or any of the proliferating documentation about the period. It makes you realise just how wild that scene was.

Wild Combination, DVD cover

Matt Wolf’s “Wild Combination” is a portrait of acclaimed musician Arthur Russell – who spanned the previously irreconcilable worlds of disco, Performance Art, and singer-songwriter art song. Using sequences shot on super 8 – a wonderful format with its softer, blurred image field – and benefitting from access to Russell’s archive, Wolf uncovers a counter-cultural world: from the late sixties communes of Haight/ Ashbury to the years in the seventies and early eighties when New York was an artists’ haven. There is archive footage from the Kitchen, an interview with famed disco producer Bob Blank and singer Lola, and a fulsome tribute from Allen Ginsberg. Best of all, the film sends you back to Russell’s music: Dinosaur L’s “Go Bang 5″, Russell’s own “Let’s Go Swimming” (as mixed by Walter Gibbons) and the “World of Echo” album. I recently picked up “Death Race 2000″ cheap in a DVD dump bin, and it’s a hoot: directed by Paul Bartel and produced by Roger Corman, it mixes up humour, action and social commentary (bread and circuses, petrol-head mania, how revolutionaries become the new establishment, etc). It’s obviously a bit rough and ready but it’s very entertaining to see mid 70′s American fashions transported into a imagined future, and – apart from David Carradine and Sylvester Stallone – there is the added pleasure of seeing Factory star Mary Woronov as one of the racers. (Her Factory memoir, “Swimming Underground”, is highly recommended). I recently toured Germany promoting the German language version of “Teenage” with my translator Conny Losch, and one of the films that she insisted we show during the readings was “It” – the 1927 film inspired by Elinor Glyn’s best-selling novel. Apart from defining the Flapper as a recognised (and commercially powerful) social type, Clarence Badger’s film made its female lead, Clara Bow, into a superstar. One of the hallmarks of the Flapper was an increased sexual assertiveness, and Bow is just stunning: one origin of Max Fleischer’s Betty Boop (1930ff) with her easy, fluid presence, kooky warmth, and beautiful black bangs. Eighty years later, she still projects out of the screen. The film was a sensation when it was released: as the embodiment of the new sexual directness, Bow was the repository of her audience’s hopes and prejudices. The academic Alice Miller quoted a variety of young responses to her most famous film. A ‘boy scout of fourteen years writes of a motion picture called It: ‘I believe It with Clara Bow is entirely a menace to the community. Pictures of such short should not be allowed in the community”. An older boy, one of seventeen years, writing of the same film, says: “I liked It. It was a wonderful interpretation of alluring young women”.’ By spring 1928, Bow was hot: her fan mail increased to over 35,000 letters a month. Interviewing her in the first full flush of fame, the journalist and screenwriter Adela Rogers St. Johns, noted that ‘there seems to be no pattern, no purpose to her life. She swings from one emotion to another, but she gains nothing, stores up nothing for the future. She lives entirely in the present, not even for today, but just for the moment.’ Talking to another magazine, she told the truth: ‘I haven’t been happy for many months. The person you see on the screen is not my true self at all; it’s my screen self’. The US DVD contains a documentary about Bow, “Discovering the “IT” Girl” which is narrated by Courtney Love – an interesting association in itself.

Finally, youtube favourite of the month: the Saints live at Paddington Town Hall in April 1977, just before they moved to the UK. This is one of the few clips that capture what punk felt and sounded like in 1977: a relentless aural assault that leaves the group and the audience exhausted. Most endearingly, the Saints are either indifferent or actively hostile to the TV cameras.

Read an interview with Ed Kuepper of the Saints, over here

Terry Riley, Procol Harum, Disco and Nederglam 

Terry Riley, Reed Streams, CD cover

I’m having a major Terry Riley moment after finding a copy of “Reed Streams” on Mass Art (1966) and have been revisiting the Organ of Corti (now Elision Fields) reissues. “Rainbow In Curved Air” is obviously his best known record – and is an all-time cosmic classic – but I can also recommend “The Last Camel In Paris”, a concert from 1978, and “Les Yeux Fermes / Lifespan”, two soundtracks from the mid seventies. Riley is a true pioneer and visionary: much more organic and less stiff than Philip Glass and, unlike LaMonte Young – another peer – he believes in releasing his music. (Both Riley and Young appear on another recent favourite, two CDs of Pandit Pran Nath’s extraordinary Kiranic vocal ragas, “Midnight” (2002). Jon Hassell played on the famous Columbia recording of Riley’s “In C” (1968), performed in Young’s ‘Dream House’, and was inspired by Pran Nath: he also covered Eden Ahbez’s ‘Nature Boy’ on his “Fascinoma” album (1999). His latest album is “Last night the moon came dropping its clothes in the street” – his first for four years, and worth the wait.

Dirty Edits Vol 2, CD cover

Disco has been making a comeback of late, for some very good reasons: it’s fun, it’s spacey, it’s sexy and it’s liberating. The two “Dirty Edits” compilations – put together by DJ/ remixer Pilooski – are highly recommended: “Vol. 2″ (2008) contains brilliant reworkings of J.J.Cale’s “Ride Me High” and Del Shannon’s “Gemini”, amongst others. Another dirty crew, Dirty Sound System (Guillaime Sorge, Clovis Goux, and Benjamin Morando) have put together “Dirty Space Disco” (2007), a compilation of the Cosmic Disco style invented by Italian DJ Daniele Baldelli – ‘a blend of percussion solos, samples from classic Operas, progressive German rock, Disco classics, slow Dub pieces’.

Pet Shop Boys, Yes, CD cover

For the modern equivalent, I crave the Kompakt label, and am really enjoying “Total 9″ and Gui Boratto’s “Take My Breath Away”. One of the stand-out tracks on the former is a strange, almost gamelan shuffle, “Zouzou” by Hamburg resident, DJ Koze (transl. DJ Vomit: nice!), who has just released a compilation of remixes, “Reincarnations” (2009). In the sleevenotes, he informs his followers that ‘he is no longer DJ Koze. Since 01.01.2009 he is Swahimi (The Unenlightened)’. Also highly recommended is the new Pet Shop Boys, simply titled “Yes”, with great songs like ‘Pandaemonium’, ‘Vulnerable’, and ‘All Over the World’ (with its counter-intuitive quotation from the ’1812 Overture’) as well as an instrumental album ‘Etc’ partially inspired by the Human League’s “Love and Dancing”. There are dozens of great dubs from the early eighties – ‘Rock The Box (Dub Box)’ by Sylvester and the ’1018 Mix’ of Noel’s ‘Silent Morning‘ to name but two – and I’ll be putting up a few on the site in future months.

Procol Harum, Shine On Brightly, CD cover

To my surprise, I’m enjoying the forthcoming Procul Harum reissues from 1967 and 1968, “Procul Harum” and “Shine On Brightly”. Remastering has greatly improved the sound – which has always erred towards piano/ organ stodge (a sound taken from Bob Dylan and the Hawks: “A Christmas Camel” is “Ballad of A Thin Man”) – and revealed a taut internal logic that slowly draws you in: a combination of rich organ tones, Keith Reid’s allusive and intriguing lyrics, and Gary Brooker’s instantly recognisable voice. In true Sixties’ style, they did not include “A Whiter Shade of Pale” – the most played record on radio – on the first album at the time, but it’s on the reissue, even if over-familiarity has dulled its impact.

I much prefer the much less familiar second hit single, “Homburg”, also an extra on “Procul Harum”

“Shine on Brightly” has the great third 45, “Quite Rightly So”, and one of the first 18 minute multi-part epics, “In Held ‘Twas I”. If that’s too proggy for you, then try to hear Brooker in beat/ jump mode, on the Paramounts’ speedy version of “Little Bitty Pretty One” – from 1964, a fantastic pop year. When you think of what the beat musicians went through from 62-66, then the freedoms – if not excesses – of the later sixties and early seventies begin to make more sense.

Pantherman single

Compiling 24 ‘Nederglam’ tracks from the early 70′s. “Clap Your Hands and Stamp Your Feet” is one of those compilations that reveals a whole, secret world of pleasure. Silly music can be great entertainment, as well as a great solace, and songs like “Pantherman” by Pantherman (see pic) and “The Rock Goes On” by Bonnie St.Claire really hit the spot. Dutch glam reveals itself as the bastard, andrognynous child of mid sixties’ Freakbeat, late sixties Psychedelia and Heavy Rock, early Seventies’ boogaloo and a healthy smattering of Europop. In the sixties, Holland had a ravening Beat/ R&B scene which has been well-excavated during recent years, and the scene’s pinnacle is Q’65′s “Revolution” album (1966): every track is a winner, but of special note is their perfect Bo Diddley/ Pretty Things’ raver, “Nightmares” – with its killer riff and sneering vocals from Willem Bieler (RIP).

Final inspirational thought, from the sleevenote for “A Rainbow In Curved Air”:

‘and then all wars ended… The Pentagon was turned on its side and painted purple, yellow & green/ All boundaries were dissolved/ The slaughter of animals was forbidden…World health was restored’.