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Showing posts with label Nico. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nico. Show all posts

Saturday, October 30, 2010

DVD Review: The Sacred Triangle: Bowie, Iggy & Lou, 1971-1973

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet


The Sacred Triangle: Bowie, Iggy & Lou, 1971-1973
Directed by Alec Lindsell
Narrated by Thomas Arnold
Sexy Intellectual, 2010
107 minutes, USD $19.95
Chromedreams.co.uk
MVDvisual.com


Let’s get right down to it:

This is a British documentary, so you know which one of the three is getting the main focus. Okay, picture two pyramids next to each other. The one on the left is Lou Reed and the one on the right is Iggy. Balancing between them is a line connecting the two (that is Marc Bolan, mentioned often but not in detail). And finally there is the third pyramid of the “sacred” triangle, David Bowie, on top of it all. That is the vision presented here. Okay, I’m done. Naw, not really, as this is still an interesting – albeit somewhat skewed – vision of the three.

Let me quickly add here that I am totally impressed by the choice of interviews that have been selected for this doc, which is so much better than the Pearl Jam one in this series. But more on the talking heads later.

There’s no doubt that Bowie was influenced by Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground, but that’s nothing new. Just listen to David Jones’ singing style around the Ziggy Stardust period, and it’s easy to see the progression from his earlier works. Personally, I’d rather listen to Reed’s take, but that’s just me, walkin’ on the wild side on a Sunday morning when comes the dawning.

There’s plenty of clips here of the Velvets; well, as much as there really is, which is limited, and taken by the Warhol crowd “artfully” (i.e., in fast speed) while in Exploding Plastic Inevitable mode (Gerard and his whip dance is often present). Bowie was still in folkie / cutsie mode when he first heard “Waitin’ for My Man,” and (rightfully) became a huge VU fan. An example given here is his “Toy Soldier,” which is such a – er – homage to “Venus in Furs,” it even quotes it in a few place, such as the line “bleed for me.” The video for the song has someone dancing with whips. And on “Black County Rock,” as explained in this doc, Bowie even imitates Bolan. MainMan publicist and photographer Leee Black Childers, who would later manage Iggy and then the Heartbreakers, states here that Bowie’s true talent is to know what to steal. In fact he said this and many of other the other bon mots he posits in a FFanzeen interview conducted by our own Nancy Foster (aka Nancy Neon) back in 1982 (reprinted here: ffanzeen.blogspot.com/2010/02/portrait-leee-black-childers.html).

Andy Warhol is shown as possibly as big an influence as the VU, and to talk about the theatrics of the Factory and its influence on Bowie are the likes of the very wound up VU biographer Victor Bockris, the fabulous aforementioned Childers (who used to have one of the coolest motorcycle jackets ever, with an image of Gene Vincent painted on its back), the equally extraordinary Jayne County, smartly dressed in bright red Little Red Riding Hood mode (she even matches the couch!), 16 Magazine publisher (early on) and Ramones manager Danny Fields, and the Psychotic Frog himself (who was also one of Andy’s superstars), Jimi LaLumia. They paint a vivid picture of Lou and Andy’s influence on not only Bowie, but music in general. But Bowie is the main focus here, and in this case almost rightfully so, as Lee, Jayne, and Jimi were all hired by the Bow-ster to work with Tony DeFries and help run his production company, MainMan. One person seriously missing from the interview call list, though, is Cherry Vanilla, which is a serious deficit.

But the person of interest for me here, interview wise, is definitely Angela Bowie. A while back I found her kind of abrasive, but I must say that my opinion has totally changed, and I now I can see her as incredibly refreshing. She holds nothing back, and will tell the most intimate details at top volume. My apologies to you, for any negative thoughts I may have had in the past. But I digress…

Other interviewees include writers Paul Tryoka and Dave Thompson, and musician John Harlsen, who was a drummer on the Bowie-produced Lou Reed first popular solo effort, Transformer (as well as being Barry Womble, of the Rutles), which included his hits “Satellite of Love” and “Walk on the Wild Side.” They all paint a very detailed portrait of Bowie, and what effect Reed and Iggy had on him, and how Bowie had affected them. Also included are some short interviews (more likely called clips) with the key artists involved, such as Bowie (from 2001 and 2007), Lou Reed (1986), Iggy (1988), and just as importantly, Mick Ronson (looking extremely frail shortly before his death in 1993). There would arguably be no Bowie to the scale he achieved without Ronson as a musical driving force (rather than an influence, like Reed and Pop), I’m convinced.

Possibly one of Warhol’s biggest influences (and he really is as big as either Lou or Iggy in the David Jones pantheon) is the idea that “You’re a Star!” and if you act like it, people will come to believe and expect it. Even before the money, there was the wardrobe, the limos, the expense accounts, and all the trappings. LaLumia states it quite well when he relates that Bowie claimed that “I’m an actor. I’m not a musician. I’m portraying a rock star.” I can’t argue with that, as I’ve always found that Lou Reed was true to what he believed, as was Iggy totally committed to what he was doing, but Bowie was posing, rather than being. Perhaps that’s why I’ve never found him to be someone I’ve looked up to musically, especially in the reality of the punk days of the Ramones and the ilk.

While Iggy’s role in the Bowie history (and vice-versa) is more commonly known, there is much less about Iggy here than either Reed or especially Warhol. Bowie famously helped Pop both get off drugs and revive his career. For me, Bowie major force was in the studio as a producer, more than a vocalist, or especially as an innovator, as he was a series of influences creatively recast. Angela probably had as much to do with Bowie’s success as did David or Ronson – or even DeFries. And I won’t even detail Cherry Vanilla’s outreach program.

The added feature to the DVD is a seven-minute documentary called “The Nico Connection,” which shows how she had touched the lives of all three musicians that are the focus of the main feature. There is a bio for each of the contributors, and it put a smile on my face to see my pals the She Wolves given a shout out by Jayne County, as they’ve worked together over the past few years.

As a last note, I would like to add that after viewing this DVD, check out The Velvet Goldmine, which will then make so much more sense.


Bonus video

Friday, May 21, 2010

Book Review: “White Light/White Heat: The Velvet Underground Day-By-Day,” by Richie Unterberger

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen
Images from the Internet


White Light/White Heat: The Velvet Underground Day-By-Day
By Richie Unterberger
Jawbone Press (London), 2009
367 pages, USD $29.95
ISBN: 978-1-906002-22-0
www.jawbonepress.com

If it’s true that God is in the details, then White Light/White Heat must be considered some kind of scripture, especially for those Velvet Underground fans, both informed and not.

But I get ahead of myself.

Richie Unterberger has a long record of rock journalism, with a number of books, including the topics of obscure bands, the history of folk rock, and the Beatles; this is only the latest in a long line of his informative and enjoyable readings by him. WL/WH is the latest in a series of Day-By-Day tomes by different authors about various bands, such as the Byrds. I haven’t read the others, but this is certainly a good start.

Essentially the book is broken down into sections, usually in calendar headings with a date – exact if known, vague if not – but Unterberger still keeps the flow going at all times in as close to chronological order as can be expected, if not more so.

It starts with the pre-original band (Lou Reed, John Cale, Sterling Morrison, Angus MacLise, and Nico), and brings the reader up to speed, as it were, with their history just prior to /relevant to the band, with what was happening in their lives that would influence them, or direct them, into this group of both like-minded musicians, and not (i.e., Nico). Some of the other musicians aren’t “revealed” early on, such as Maureen Tucker, until they show up in the time of the band.

Unterberger takes many sources, including previous books (such as Victor Bockris’ Transformer: The Lou Reed Story [who is of the dreaded “This is what Lou Reed was thinking when…” style] and Nico: The Life and Lies of an Icon, by Richard Witts), articles, fanzines, and first hand accounts from over 100 people interviewed personally by the author. He does not just repeat the information, however, he synthesizes all of the accounts, and then clarifies whenever he can. For example, he might say that something is quoted – even by the band members - as being on a certain date, but since so-and-so was someplace else from such-and-such a time, it more likely was around this time. This thoughtful processing and evaluating makes WL/WH an invaluable resource.

It is also this progression that takes the conglomeration of old and new information that keeps it all fresh and, well, fascinating. Like oral histories, there are definitely some contradictions from the different multitude of sources, and Unterberger works it into a nice mixture that respects the source, and yet makes it innovative and new.

This is a big book in many ways, but certainly due to the importance of the subject matter in a cultural context, and the physical volume itself. I’ll start with the latter.

An oversized paperback on thick, glossy paper (it is physically heavy), with clear and often large photos and images throughout, the text is teeny-tiny serif type (7 pt?), with three columns per page. On a normal book, that would be the equivalent of three pages there to one page here. In other words, this 360-plus page book would actually be over 1,000 pages in any regular size print book. The reader is definitely getting his or her money’s worth on sheer volume alone.

Needless to say, it took me a hell of a long time to get through this book, which is a good thing, because I did not read it as much as savor it. There is a lot of detailed information to process, and to Unterberger’s credit, I never felt bored or lost interest, even after Nico, Reed and Cale left the band, their places taken up by Doug Yule and Willie Alexander, to name a few.

Who can argue that the Velvet Underground were one of the more important musical entities during their period – whether one enjoyed their music or not – on so many scenes, be it rock’n’roll, rock, avant-garde, jazz, and yes, punk. They would as easily be put in the Captain Beefheart category as, say, the Stooges. Unterberger takes their influential status in the musical strata and is hardly cowed by it, nor is he condescending, but he seems to be as objective as possible (of course, there is no such thing as true objectivity), while it is obvious he is a fan at the same time.

My long-time friend Walter Ocner is a veteran VU fan in good standing, and he recently summed up WL/WH in one word: “Brilliant.” It’s hard to argue with that.

Some additional Richie Unterberger's books, in no particular order: