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If the glory days of '70s rock 'n' roll had rules,
and they did, Thin Lizzy managed to break nearly all of them. They were
Irish before anyone had ever dreamed of something called U2. They were racially
integrated, fronted by a lean black bassist/singer/born rock star named Phil
Lynott. And they were lyrical, in addition to being champion shredders. Not only
did they thrive on these rule-breaking terms, but they also came to define a
certain perfect model of what would eventually be called "classic rock" but was
then just simply rock. As a result of these contradictions, and a host of the
damaging personal and behavioral peccadilloes that rock bands are heir to, Thin
Lizzy is handed down to rock history as both legendary giants and, curiously,
underdogs. This live DVD, a document of the period that yielded the classic
"Live and Dangerous LP," was captured in 1977 in London. As the world around
them went the way of punk, Lizzy played sweaty, sexy, long-haired, muscular hard
rock, with no nod in the direction of Sex Pistols, Clash or any other youngsters
who might be out there waiting to see guitar heroes like Lizzy lose a step.
Launching right into "The Boys Are Back in Town" and thence into "Massacre,"
"Still in Love With You," "Are You Ready" and "Baby Drives Me Crazy," they
clearly are up on very strong legs. Equally interesting are the band's five "Top
of the Pops" appearances, which show them pantomiming their best known hits,
including "Whiskey in the Jar" and "Jailbreak." A second live show, from 1983,
is a bit lackluster, though it's of some interest just to remember they were
even alive by then. They wouldn't be much longer. This is essential Thin Lizzy.
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| Smashing Pumpkins: If All Goes Wrong |
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If any band ever embodied the contradictions of the rise of
"alternative rock" in the '90s, it was Smashing Pumpkins. A group with unabashed
stadium ambitions, they rode the wave of alt-culture, acting sullen, jaded
and disaffected in song and style until they were big enough to fill
those stadiums. Then, when fashions changed, they started complaining about not
being massively famous anymore. This new, two-disc DVD, chronicling the band's
reunion (well, two original members, anyway) in a series of residencies across
the USA, shows that they're still complaining about no longer being massively
famous. Band leader Billy Corgan remains petulant and nasal, the songs remain
dour and metal-influenced, and the fans (who are many, if not quite legion
anymore), remain hopelessly devoted. Also featured, bizarrely: an interview with
Pumpkins fan/apologist Pete Townshend. Disc 2 is a recent live show, which,
to the reformed band's credit, does not lean on the glory years of
early-to-mid-'90s hits, focusing rather on newer stuff like "Death From Above"
and five previously unreleased songs. It may not be the best work of their
career, but "If All Goes Wrong" proves that, for all their complaining, Smashing
Pumpkins are still a working band, which is something.
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| Sex Pistols: There'll Always Be an England |
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Old age jokes aside, there's nothing wrong with the surviving
Sex Pistols, just the wrong side of middle age, mounting the stage to play the
old songs in modern day London. They look terrible (I mean, really terrible),
but they sound fantastic, far better, unsurprisingly, than they did in 1977.
Fashion types mourn the passing of Sid Vicious, but, despite his great look, he
was a musical black hole. With the original lineup reinstalled, the Pistols are
as ferocious as ever, and, as anyone who has listened to their one LP recently
can attest, the music has aged far better than anyone might've imagined. Big
deal if they're old? It's the audience, composed mostly of young people dressed
and coiffed like punks of 30 years ago, that's dispiriting; could they not dream
up their own form of rebellion?
Speaking of rebellion, Johnny
Rotten was possibly the greatest rock front man of all time. And though his
real-life alter ego, John Lydon, is no slouch, his performance in this DVD
smacks a bit of self-burlesque. But, after a year that has seen Lydon make some
very disappointing choices as a public figure, it's nice to be reminded of the
powerful anger and comedy that made him so essential so long ago. Too bad he
couldn't be coaxed into appearing in the witless bonus feature in which his band
mates give a video tour of London. Pretty vacant, indeed.
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| CSNY Déjà Vu |
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The relationship of Neil Young to his
colleagues/collaborators/nemeses Crosby, Stills and Nash would make a pretty
good movie. The shifting sands of loyalty, the ongoing arguments over relative
talent and fame, the tantrums, last-minute betrayals and tearful reunions, the
discord and, most importantly, the harmony -- all these elements are part of the
story every time the world's first true supergroup (referred to by some as CSN
& for the love of God, Y) gets its act back together. Unfortunately, this
movie, directed by resident wild card Young (under the pseudonym Bernard
Shakey), has nothing to do with that imaginary movie. The most intriguing parts
of the band's history are just subtext to this reunion tour documentary. The
real story is CSNY's objection to the war in Iraq, and the echoes (hence
the title) of its objection to the war in Vietnam, which framed its original
formation. The "Freedom of Speech" tour allowed the musicians to address this
symmetry, while alternately inspiring and alienating its mass audience by being
blunt and loud about its antiwar sentiments. To Young's credit, both sides of
that reaction are aired in the film, along with a handful of CSNY hits (most
appropriately, "Ohio"), backstage moments, and, in a rare show of the band's
legendary internal rivalry, a shot of Stephen Stills tumbling off stage.
Some things never change.
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| The Mothership Connection: 1976 Live |
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From the opening announcement ("Houston, the mothership has
landed! Let's tear the roof off this mothersucker!") there can be no doubt that
the many-headed funk explosion led by master George Clinton (at the peak of his
awesome power) is, if you'll pardon the expression, utterly in the house.
Parliament-Funkadelic during America's bicentennial year was an essential
spectacle, as the global hit "Give Up the Funk (Tear the Roof Off the Sucker),"
the indelible "Mothership Connection" LP and the subsequent double live album
"Parliament Live: P-Funk Earth Tour" have proved. This DVD raises the stakes to
present the full live show, spaceship set, elaborate costumes and all, captured
just as Parliament began firing on all cylinders.
Unafraid of,
indeed committed to, ridiculousness in the service of a good party, Clinton and
company unabashedly dress up as pyramids and don fuzzy sombreros and diapers
while trading epic solos and sexy dance steps. And no one could say it was an
ego trip; Clinton isn't even onstage for the first 10 minutes of the show. But
once he's there, he has no rival for the role of MC. All the madness whirls
around him as the (oh yeah, did I mention, unbelievably skilled) band whips
through "Cosmic Slop," "Standing on the Verge of Getting it On," "Dr.
Funkenstein," "P-Funk (Wants to Get Funked Up)" and other evergreen staples of
the form. I can't even imagine a more authentic document of the heyday of this
music, which excuses the DVD's crude cinematography (it was shot more than 30
years ago). Still it sounds great, and there's no mistaking the funk on that
stage. Long may it run.
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