TWO B's: KATE BUSH AND DAVID BOWIE

Reviews By Philip Nutman

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Back in 1978, when EMI Records unleashed Kate Bush on an unsuspecting public, every hormonally-charged teenage boy in Great Britain suddenly fell in lust with Kate’s Bush. Well, that was the schoolboy joke, anyway—we all wanted to check out Kate’s “bush,” which was probably a retarded adolescent way of trying to figure out who this weird chick was. She wasn’t a hippie, but she had an Earth Mother quality that was antithetical to the whole punk Souxsie/Jordan/Sue Cat Woman look and feel of contemporary female rock chicks. And she radiated more sexual promise than Stevie Nicks ever could. Kate was hot. Kate was weird—which probably made her hotter. Those lips, those eyes...that weird voice and that weird song (“Wuthering Heights”). She was unlike any female performer we’d seen. And today, she remains unlike any other female singer/performer, period.

KATE BUSH: UNDER REVIEW is another entry in the UNDER REVIEW series from British-based Sexy Intellectual and the ChromeDreams production company whose work we previously reviewed in Issue # 1 (See Jason Quinn’s reviews of The Velvet Underground and Captain Beefheart here). That company, distributed in the US by MVD, are creating some of the most interesting direct to DVD rockumentaries available (see Bowie and Led Zeppelin below). While their work is very hit or miss, KATE BUSH rates as a terrific piece that comes closer than any previous attempt at explaining the Bush enigma.

And Kate Bush is an enigma, as any diehard fan knows. Kate is a study in contrasts: a flamboyant performer who avoids publicity like the plague; an artist who refuses to participate on the corporate treadmill and make albums on a regular schedule (13 years between albums!)...the list could go on. With informed commentary from Mojo contributor Phil Sutcliffe (who was a senior writer at Sounds when Bush was initially active) and Radio DJ/musicologist Paul Gambaccini, to mention but two of the contributors, a lot of lively insights can be gleaned here. Further comments by author and journalist Nigel Williamson (the Neil Young study, JOURNEY THROUGH THE PAST) and Lucy O’ Brien (SHE BOP: THE DEFINITIVE ENCYCLOPEDIA OF WOMEN IN ROCK) are interesting, but don’t add up to more than opinions. The only disappointment is that there’s not enough interview time with orchestral composer and highly regarded session percussionist Morris Pert who worked extensively with Bush on her debut album, THE KICK INSIDE and contributed to four others.

If you think you know Kate Bush, this DVD will open your eyes. And if you don’t know her work, then this is a great place to start.

$18.95 at Amazon

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Comprising the albums LOW, HEROES and LODGER, Bowie’s Berlin phase of hard drugs and avant garde compositions either rate as one of his most interesting personal and professional periods (collaborations with Brian Eno, producing the classic Iggy Pop albums LUST FOR LIFE and THE IDIOT) or his most mystifying and dull, if, like a later generation you fell under the chameleon’s spell during his “Let’s Dance” phase and thought that “China Girl” was a great single (it’s actually an old Iggy song). For those of us who grew up with David during the 1970s, his seemingly endlessly evolving wardrobe of personas matched our own rise (and fall) from childhood to the various stages of adolescence and beyond; from the heady let’s-play-dress-up of Ziggy and the Spiders and the dark glam of Aladdin Sane, through the cold soundscapes of Low and the Berlin period; through punk and post punk and the SCARY MONSTERS album of 1980 (CK). As the promotion for LODGER stated, “there’s punk, there’s post-punk, and then there’s David Bowie.” Whichever phase you most identified with, or have the greatest affection for (there’s a subtle difference there), the period of 1976—1979 certainly rates as one of true significance: as the commentarians on this disc agree, without these three discs—particularly LOW and HEROES—ambient music would not have entered popular consciousness, at least for many years.

Unfortunately, despite—or perhaps that’s in spite—of all this, DAVID BOWIE UNDER REVIEW: 1976-1979 turns out to be a particularly turgid example of the “Under Review” series, filled with pretentious and downright silly (Mark Prendergast), to opinionated and facile (Paolo Hewitt), to intelligent and thoughtful (ambient composer/musician David Toop) commentary. This is where the UNDER REVIEW series, and some associated documentaries like the Zeppelin one reviewed below) are hit and miss; it really depends on the quality of the “experts” enlisted to put the subject at hand under review. Example: Prendergast on the song “Sound and Vision” from the album LOW: “Most of it is sound; I mean, like it’s a textured soundscape” (duh! The disc has just spent the last half hour stressing the ambient aspects of the album and the fact that a number of the cuts started life as works-in-progress for Bowie’s proposed soundtrack for the Nicholas Roeg film, THE MAN WHO FELL TO EARTH [1976], in which he starred). Hewitt, a renowned fashion/style expert who used to write some of the most demanding postmodern criticism in the New Musical Express in the early ‘80s, on the other hand, mumbles a largely nonsensical load of expletive-filled bollocks, and some of the other contributors were badly recorded when videoed and could do with subtitles.

Another problem with this series is the paucity of archive footage and the lack of quality of what there is. Since these are clearly low budget documentaries, the sparse footage is probably public domain and usually second or third generation in source (I don’t want to suggest bootleg, but...). Still this Bowie doc has a nice snippet of David performing “Heroes” on the Bing Crosby Christmas Show from 1977 (the whole performance would have been cool, as would the clip of Bowie and Bing dueting on “Little Drummer Boy”) and some live material from a German studio I’ve never seen, amongst others.

Verdict: there’s a great documentary in here waiting to get out, but if you can wade through the verbiage, there are some interesting nuggets for both the curious and the Bowie die-hard.

$17.99 at Amazon

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...THREE P's: THE PIXIES, PRIMUS AND THE PLASMATICS...

Reviews by Scott Jason

If you don’t know who The Pixies were/are, then you’ve been hiding under a rock for nearly 20 years or listening to too much hip-hop and what they call R n B these days. Basically, they paved the way for Nirvana and other bands of that ilk, and when they broke up in 1992, legions of fans (and Pixies fans could be really fanatical) were shocked and dismayed; to some it was like the death of Elvis—an era was over forever. Well, not so. When do rock bands ever stay dead? (even if half of them are dead, like The Who; you can’t help thinking Pete “I’m a whore” Townsend would keep on touring even if Daltrey died...) They always reform when the need money—or are addicted to it like Townsend seemingly is. So in 2004, The Pixies reunited and decided to tour.

For the uninitiated, The Pixies are: Charles Thomson (aka, Black Francis/Frank Black), Kim Deal, Joey Santiago and David Lovering; frontman, bassist, guitarist and drummer, respectively. With the exception of Deal, who was doing well with the Breeders, the group she formed with twin sister Kelley, the other band members were hurting financially and otherwise: Frank Black was facing the ignominy of a career slide; Santiago was struggling with being a married parent with mounting responsibilities and a dwindling bank account; and Lovering had quit playing drums to pursue hobbies like metal-detecting (!) and being a stage magician. But Deal had a cross to bare, too: she’s a recovering alcoholic. When they broke up in 1992, it was acrimonious; getting back together was easy—hey, we’re stars now, we can make a lot of money! But watching this fine film, it soon becomes apparent these are four people who really don’t like each other a whole lot, can barely stand to be in a room together and only manage small talk. Yeesh! And it looks so much fun to be a alternative rock star! However, once you get them on stage, you can’t believe the transformation: they are One (try imagining U2 without Adam or Larry). Pretty soon, the tensions within the band threaten to destroy the tour, and kudos to The Pixies for allowing such a candid look inside their inner workings.

I don’t usually get wild and crazy about recommending movies, but this is one you should see whether you like The Pixies’ music or not. For my money, the best documentary I saw this year.

$14.99 at Amazon

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Our editor assigned me this one to review this because I liked the Zingers CD, or so he says, but I think it was some kind of punishment. [ You wish, Jason—you asked for it! —Editor]. This is one truly weird...I don’t know what to call it: it’s not a documentary, it’s not a tour or concert film, it’s...I give up! The full title is PRIMUS: BLAME IT ON THE FISH AN ABSTRACT LOOK AT THE 2003 PRIMUS TOUR DE FROMAGE BY MATTHEW J. POWERS, and I guess that sums it up (?) Some cheeseheads abso-fuckin-lutely love this disc while others think it’s a load of bullshit made by a film student who couldn’t cut his shit together. This Powers dude ain’t no film school student, he’s seemingly a professional somethingorother in the film world, but I know what they mean. “Abstract” is right. “Psychedelic” is a word that’s overused, but it’s applicable here. Then again “visual gibberish” might apply, too. This is definitely not for everyone. I liked it and can now understand why some folks say Primus mastermind Les Claypool is influenced by Frank Zappa, but I think he’s also soaked up a lot of aesthetics from fellow San Fran eccentrics The Residents. I say I liked it, but I gotta admit—I had to take it in small doses. Maybe it would make more sense if you were on drugs.

$12.99 at Amazon

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Now we’re talking! This one’s subtitled “10 years of revolutionary rock and roll,” which sums this disc up as well as the Primus mouthful. This one’s loaded with footage (Sexy Intellectual/ChromeDreams take note) and is non-stop mayhem. Even the interviews are usually manic, and the whole package is wrapped up by the breathless, speeding narration of some chick named Tricia Basanyi. Not that she does a good job—her delivery’s too fast and too flat. Nor can this be called a definitive documentary since original guitarist Richie Stotts, the tall, lanky geek who sported garters and stockings and a blue Mohawk, is completely missing—even edited out of old videos. Word has it there’s such bad blood between him and former manager Rod Swenson, a porn producer before he decided he wanted to be the next Malcolm McLaren and founded this “band,” that’s why Stotts is missing. But screw all that as this disc’s worth watching for the insane concert footage and is chock full of videos I haven’t seen in years. Their music was shit, but I, like thousands of other teenage boys (they never sold big numbers), got off on the chainsaws, the TV-smashing, the blowing up of cars, and even if Wendy was ugly, she had a great body, most of which you got to see on stage.

The Plasmatics were formed in NYC by Swenson in 1979. Williams, who’d performed in live sex shows before making the jump into movies, met her future manager and lover back when he was often referred to as Captain Kink. It was a meeting of minds and bodies, and with original guitarist Stotts, the band soon achieved notoriety for their extreme stage shows which usually took place at CBGB’s. Firing blanks from a shorn-off shotgun while wearing electrical tape on her nipples, chainsawing a dummy filled with blood and coating the audience (years before GWAR), Wendy would do anything to try to shock the audience, but let’s be honest here, the Plasmatics weren’t great musicians and their songs were barely literate. Swenson was no fool and knew the way to push their reputation was to push the shows as far as they could go. The rest, as the saying goes, is history: banned in London, busted in the Midwest...the band evolved (devolved?) from Punk to Metal and ultimately disbanded in 1988. Wendy committed suicide in 1998, a month before she turned 49.

This disc isn’t so much a Plasmatics documentary as it is a Wendy lovefest. It’s worth seeing for the concert footage and videos.

$17.99 at Amazon

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...AND A "Z"

Review by Scott Jason

How much Led Zeppelin is too much led Zeppelin? For diehard fans, the answer is “never”—and that includes myself. Around the time this disc came out back in August, Rolling Stone ran yet another Zep cover story. Desperation? Overkill? As written by crack music journo Mikal Gilmore, it was an excellent article, a fine primer for the new generation of kids who are embracing classic rock. This disc, subtitled A CRITICAL REVIEW OF THE BAND’S ROOTS AND BRANCHES (yes, it’s another Sexy Intellectual/ChromeDreams disc, effectively another “under review” doc) works as a perfect complement to Gilmore’s article, taking a lot of the ground he covered but adding plenty of archive footage and really good commentary (author/journalists Phil Sutcliffe, Barney Hoskyns, Alan Clayson, but also musicians including former Yardbirds guitarist Chris Dreja, Chris Farlowe and Dave “The Crying Game” Berry). [Subsequent investigation has turned up that this disc is a companion to Clayson’s book, which has the same title but a different subtitle—How, Why, and Where It All Began—which is published by ChromeDreams in the UK. —Editor]

True to the disc’s subtitle, this documentary explores the band’s roots going all the way back to Jimmy Page’s teenage guitar playing, and the footage of Page, aged 14, performing live with JP’s Skiffle Group on Huw Wheldon’s ALL YOUR OWN talent show on the BBC in 1958 is priceless (but once again, we only get a couple of clips not the whole performance—damn!). Zeppelin’s first two albums are the focus here, and we get the back-story on songs like “Bring It On Home,” which Page and Plant claimed as theirs but was lifted from Sonny Boy Williamson; and “Whole Lotta Love” is a riff off “You Need Love” by Willie Dixon. While Clayson defends this plagiarism as an evolution from their blues roots, Sutcliffe, who won’t condemn them either, at least states it would have behooved them to be more scrupulous with their credits. Fascinating stuff!

Highly recommended for Zepp newbies, and a worthwhile investment for the rest of us who came of age listening to “Stairway To Heaven.”

$18.95 at Amazon

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