No Rush, Thanks

By Steve Evans

I love rock documentaries. Any chance I get to learn context and meaning behind the music, I jump on it. Sometimes I get lucky and encounter an unintentional comedy disguised as a rock doc, leaving me sputtering with laughter. Rob Reiner’s great mockumentary This is Spinal Tap (1984) relentlessly skewered rock and roll pomposity and stupidity, of which there remains no shortage.

Sometimes, though, you don’t need a work of satire to help high-minded musicians look foolish. Often, they don’t need any help.

This set the scene for my viewing of Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage, a film about the Canadian power trio’s 40-odd year career. The picture came out eight years ago, though I had successfully dodged it until last night when, in a fit of tedium, I cracked into a six-pack of particularly good beer and cued up that Rush doc. Eons ago, when I was in high school, Rush was an anomaly. If you listened to them at all, it was just to tide you over in-between Zeppelin albums. From the first time I heard the band, I thought a root canal could be no more painful. Or a spinal tap. Not even sure why I watched the damn documentary last night, except beer was involved.

But I’m glad I did. This is a band that should be slapped for writing a song titled By-Tor and the Snow Dog, which still makes me giggle decades on. Their early success, 2112, is a ponderous space-rock concept album that devotees say is best experienced, if not understood, under the influence of vodka and Quaaludes. From my high school days I recall the band’s biggest fans were people you wouldn’t want to be alone with.

The stumbling block for me was always Geddy Lee, the band’s bassist. His banshee-shrieking, kicked-in-the-balls vocals could resurrect a cemetery of skeletons who’d abandon their graves in mute protest. Tunes like Tom Sawyer and Freewill (a wince-inducing ode to whack-job Ayn Rand) were staples of MOR classic rock radio stations. Still are, for all I know. My best recollection of Rush in their heyday was making fun of them with my own band of hooligans out at the lake, blasting the local FM station on a boombox and striking absurd rock-hero poses on the sand whenever a Rush tune was played. Some music ages well. Some music does not. Some sounds just as ludicrous as the day the tunes were pressed into vinyl.

What elevates this documentary to comedy gold is the occasional interview with one of the band’s celebrity fans. When a no-talent peanut head like Jack Black starts using the words “Rush” and “intellectual” in the same sentence, it’s time to pop another beer and stare in amazement that absolutely no one, except me, is laughing. And Sweet Baby Jeebus laff I did, until my tears fell like rain.

Cinema Uprising Copyright © 2018 by Steve Evans. All rights reserved.

Still Walkin' on the Wild Side

Lou Reed: Spanish Fly: Live In Spain
Sanctuary // 72 Minutes // Not Rated

Reviewed by Steve Evans

Opening Shot
“It’s all downhill after the first…kiss.”

Do Ya Need Some Lou Reed?
Aging rock nihilist Lou Reed performs 11 tracks of his best-known work both as a solo artist and from his glory days with the Velvet Underground. Yes, this man is still alive. So is his music, trapped not so much by history (or a cult of personality) as it is by his relentless devotion to a despairing vision: misanthropic and existential. The DVD is a document of Reed and his band at the Festival Internacional de Benicàssim in August 2004.

Reed’s vocals, by turns sarcastic, cynical, world-weary, and exasperating, remain an acquired taste after nearly 40 years. Really, how much sneering can ya groove on before turning to something else? But when the man with the simian smile works up a heart full of angst, well, Good Gawd a’mighty, it’s difficult to remain uninvolved. His music could be the soundtrack for a nocturnal road trip across some post-apocalyptic wasteland scattered with twisted iron beams, castaway hypodermics, and bleached bones, glowing pale in the serious moonlight.At times you wonder how a man with this much pain oozing from his soul could bear to live so long. But Reed remains elusive, deliberately ambiguous; it’s a mystery whether he cares about anything beyond an obsession with abstract romanticism.

As for the music, Reed’s forte is the brutal honesty of his lyrics, invariably confessional and self-loathing. His journeyman rhythm guitar playing was seldom more than serviceable, though Reed could always lay down a few hypnotic licks to keep the heroin crowd entranced. Even on his best albums with the Velvet Underground, Reed was always a brittle eccentric, often addled by drugs and a tiresome devotion to the imagery of William Burroughs. But he continues to fascinate his dedicated fan base. You know who you are, and if you’ve read this far then you’ll hang to the coda.

Truth be told, Reed has begun to mellow. He’s blunted the edge from several classic songs on this DVD and even censored himself on a few key lyrics. This will no doubt disappoint the cognoscenti in the crowd (if they are sober enough to notice), although Reed could argue that he’s merely evolving with the times. Still, a politically correct Lou Reed may be the ultimate oxymoron.

There is good news.

Cellist Jane Scarpantoni is an inspired addition to the band. Her solo on the haunting classic “Venus in Furs” is achingly beautiful — an extended serpentine run along four strings — flavored with Mediterranean and Middle Eastern influences that give emotional resonance to a song about unspeakable lament and a dangerous addiction to sadomasochism. This is the finest track on the disc and remains among Reed’s greatest compositions after nearly four decades. Scarpantoni transforms her solo into breathtaking moments of mad, feverish transcendence. It’s only fitting, then, that Reed segues straight into the familiar crowd-pleasing chords of “Sweet Jane.” She certainly is.

What’s on the Disc, Steve?
Let me tell ya. With some amperage behind it, the 5.1 audio delivers the sonic rush of the concert. Videography is crisp and expertly shot, focusing on the musicians on a minimalist stage. Extras are limited to a brief gallery of the band and crew photographed by Reed himself. These portraits are not so astounding as to be memorable for anyone not affiliated with Reed’s band or entourage. In terms of added-value content, the best that can be said about the photo gallery is that it’s better than nothing.

“Walk on the Wild Side” closes out the set, perhaps inevitably, as this sly, cynical tale of a transvestite groupie remains Reed’s best-known song. The doo-wop refrain is familiar to anyone past a certain age (I said, ‘hey, babe.’), although Reed’s perfunctory delivery makes for a disappointing finish.

My thoughts on the disc may sound like so much damning with faint praise, but in fairness this is a good concert DVD, just not the great one I had hoped it would be. Is this Reed’s fault? Yes, he shares some of the blame. Reed has made a career out of tantalizing his defenders with hints of greatness, promises of musical genius gone largely unfulfilled in the wake of failed experimental music, occasional crises of identity, and a self-destructive bent fueled by a taste for decadence. He raises our expectations with the occasional flourish of brilliance, then fails to follow through. None of this detracts from the essential fact that the magnificent live performances of “Venus in Furs” and “Why Do You Talk” make this reasonably-priced disc a must-have for fans.

At minimum, there’s something curiously reassuring in the knowledge that “Venus in Furs” has not been — and probably never will be — co-opted for commercials by Madison Avenue advertisers hungry to sell cars, condoms, textiles, or tampons.

And so, aging hipsters can rejoice: Reed’s anarchy has yet to become anachronism. Certain pop artifacts are so outré they may never be absorbed and assimilated by mass culture. They stand outside, taunting, mocking, flaunting their defiance. This might give Lou Reed a reason to smile.

Set List:
• “Modern Dance”
• “Why Do You Talk”
• “Venus In Furs”
• “Sweet Jane”
• “Jesus”
• “Romeo Had Juliette”
• “Satellite of Love”
• “Ecstasy”
• “The Blue Mask”
• “Perfect Day”
• “Walk on the Wild Side”

Copyright © 2009 by Cinematic Cteve // dba Cinema Uprising. All rights reserved.