Showing posts with label Bill Wyman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bill Wyman. Show all posts

CD/DVD Review: The Rolling Stones – From the Vault: The Marquee Club – Live In 1971

CD/DVD Review: The Rolling Stones – From the Vault: The Marquee – Live In 1971
Eagle Rock Entertainment
All Access Rating: A

The Rolling Stones - From
The Vault: The Marquee Club -
Live In 1971
Still a month away from the hotly anticipated release of Sticky Fingers, the Rolling Stones – fresh off their "1971 Farewell Tour of the UK" – set up at London's famed Marquee Club for a rare intimate performance filmed for American television.

Eric Clapton was there to see it, and so was Jimmy Page, among others of similar stature. And the Stones showed them all how it was done, their swagger born of an innate knowledge that nobody, but nobody, could touch them on a good night, let alone a great one.

And to think, highly sought-after footage of that gig sat in an attic for two decades, just gathering dust. What better time than the present for its new unveiling, now that the Stones have reissued, in grand fashion, Sticky Fingers in all its gritty, cocksure glory.

Restored with loving care by Bob Clearmountain, its impressive 5.1 surround sound on the DVD and SD Blu-ray versions and rich, luxuriously colorful imagery capturing the essence of a band at the absolute peak of its powers, "From the Vault: The Marquee Club – Live In 1971" finds the Stones brimming with confidence and unafraid to mess around with songs considered sacred by many. They're almost cavalier in how they approach a rather ramshackle, easy-going version of "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" that seems gleefully out of step with the urgency and the barely contained sexual frustration of the original. And after romping through "Midnight Rambler" with feverish energy, the Stones sounding as tight and industrious as ever, and Mick Jagger huffing and puffing away on harmonica, a wide, natural smile spreads across Keith Richards' face and it says, "That was pretty good, wasn't it?" Yes it was, Keith. Yes it was.

Strutting and preening, as is his wont, the playful Jagger is a magnet for smartly directed cameras and close-ups, as he savors every line dripping from a slowly cooked "I Got The Blues," throws himself into a raucous cover of Chuck Berry's "Let It Rock" and, as Ian Stewart's high-stepping piano gets to work, infuses machismo, arrogance and sass into the ripping opener "Live With Me." Charlie Watt's drumming is clever, propulsive and rigorous, while Bill Wyman calmly and unobtrusively steers the ship with gripping bass lines, Bobby Keys and Jim Price assertively blow their horns with soulful conviction on command and Richards and Mick Taylor negotiate whatever issues they had with an uneasy mixture of toughness and licks that can be nasty or tasteful.

Packaged as a CD/DVD combo, and also available as a DVD/LP or Blu-ray/CD offering, "From The Vault: The Marquee Club – Live In 1971" is a true treasure, since much of material has gone completely unseen. Filmed professionally with a thirst for action and seemingly covered in a lush, early '70s patina that's almost glossy, it has great historical value. This is where the forbidden fruits of "Brown Sugar," "Bitch" and a crisply played "Dead Flowers" were first tasted, and they must have left the ragged company that witnessed it flush with excitement. Eagle Rock Entertainment ups the ante on this concise, yet explosive set, with alternate takes of "I Got The Blues" and "Bitch," plus a bit of the Stones doing "Brown Sugar" on "Top Of The Pops" in 1971 adding value. All these years later, the Stones are still delivering the goods in concert, but they were hitting on all cylinders in 1971, and this is the kind of show that made them legends.
– Peter Lindblad

DVD Review: The Rolling Stones – Crossfire Hurricane

DVD Review: The Rolling Stones – Crossfire Hurricane
Eagle Rock Entertainment
All Access Rating: B+

The Rolling Stones - Crossfire Hurricane 2013
Wherever Keith Richards goes musically, Charlie Watts is sure to follow. As bassist Bill Wyman explains in the documentary film “Crossfire Hurricane,” Watts has always played slightly behind Richards and Wyman would go out ahead of both of them, a style which gave the Rollings Stones’ gloriously ragged brand of rock ‘n’ roll a bit of a “wobble,” as he calls it. 

To Wyman, it’s this magical interplay that makes it seem as if the Stones, at their most shambolic, are constantly on the edge of falling completely apart.

That’s what made the Stones dangerous. It wasn’t necessarily the drugs, the villainous excess, their uninhibited sexuality or their supposed affinity for Satan, although that’s what the world outside the band’s inner sanctum thought. Internally, at least to Wyman, they teetered on the brink of utter chaos musically; that was what made them exciting and wild. A whole generation picked up on this barely controlled vibe, and they wanted to riot. The Rolling Stones lit the fuse.

If nothing else, “Crossfire Hurricane,” the newest career-spanning documentary (on DVD and Blu-ray from Eagle Rock Entertainment) on these pop-culture icons and rock ‘n’ roll revolutionaries, rather artfully captures the explosive zeitgeist of the Rolling Stones’ formative years and their Marquee Club meltdowns, when the band, for all intents and purposes, expected to be attacked nightly onstage by fans – causing concerts to end abruptly. And it segues seamlessly into the late ‘60s, establishing a somewhat tenuous, but undeniable, link between the Stones and the social upheaval of the time, with raw footage from “The Rolling Stones’ Rock and Roll Circus” thick with a heavy voodoo-like atmosphere while the band runs through “Sympathy for the Devil” – this island of feverish, hypnotically tribal rumblings surrounded by scenes of unrest, violence and fan worship.

And so goes “Crossfire Hurricane,” wandering through the last days of Brian Jones and his fading relevance into the Hyde Park triumph – that “baptism of fire” for Mick Taylor, as Richards puts it. From there, it moves on to Altamont and then to the Stones fleeing England for France for tax reasons and Richards’ heroin problem, before vaulting into the Stones’ metamorphosis from sinister miscreants to stadium-rocking party machine and it does so in a lithe, but ultimately superficial, manner, as if afraid to get bogged down in one subject or another. There appears to be a schedule to keep, and there’s no time to dilly-dally or study any particular period in Stones’ history with any sort of depth. Director Brett Morgen is running behind.

Current interviews with the Stones provide an oral history that speaks over the top of a mesmerizing, wonderfully arranged collage of vintage candid images and film footage of live performances, TV interviews, and behind-the-scenes peeks of the hedonistic Stones at play and at rest that seem positively voyeuristic. Some of it is familiar, like the “Dick Cavatt Show” intro, and some of it is has never been seen before, and the way it is all pieced together, “Crossfire Hurricane” puts the viewer right in the center of the Stones’ maelstrom, whether it’s taking place onstage, backstage or in the streets. And you get swept up in the current of it. There’s no sense trying to swim your way out of it. You’ll just drown in the fast-paced carousel of visual stimuli that spins away on screen.

Like the Stones themselves, “Crossfire Hurricane” is often on the verge of crumbling into mayhem, and that’s what makes it magnetic, the charisma and ennui of the Stones spilling out over each frame. Still, it does, as other reviewers have said, leave one wanting. To the filmmakers, the only Stones’ history worth exploring is everything that happened from Tattoo You backward, and maybe they’re right, but it the film does trail off without a real definite conclusion. And while everything up to and including Altamont is covered fairly extensively, that which happens afterward gets short shrift.

More than that, the commentary from members of the Stones that drives the narrative rarely offers much in the way of fresh perspective or revelation. They’re sorry for how things unraveled with Jones, but what were they to do? Drugs had left him a shell of his former self. Taxes in England were killing their bottom line, so they exiled themselves. Mick Taylor departed, taking the rest of the band aback. But, here comes Ronnie Wood, who was a better fit socially at least. That’s the level of discourse here, at least for the second half of the film, where “Crossfire Hurricane” runs out of steam and fails to latch onto anything of vital interest.

It’s worth watching – just for the scintillating live stuff alone, as a variety of spirited archival concert performances from the mid-‘60s are tacked on as bonus features and packaged with entertaining liner notes. Don’t expect, however, many new answers to nagging questions observers have always had about the Stones. 
– Peter Lindblad

DVD Review: The Rolling Stones "Stones in Exile"

DVD Review: The Rolling Stones "Stones in Exile"
All Access Review: A

To avoid paying exorbitant taxes in their native England, the Rolling Stones moved to the south of France in 1971, following the release of Sticky Fingers. It was not a proud moment for a band that left home with their tales between their legs, knowing that their street cred was about to take a serious hit. Still, it’s hard to blame them. The English tax laws were going to take pounds and pounds of their flesh, and had they stayed and settled up, the Stones, rock and roll’s dark princes, wouldn’t have had a pot to piss in, or so they claim.

But evading taxes is hardly a cool thing to do. That’s something card-carrying members of the Establishment attempt, isn’t it? Caught between a rock and a hard place, the Stones did the wise thing and reluctantly, and almost shamefully, went on semi-permanent holiday. Something good did come out of it, though, and that was Exile on Main Street, perhaps the most mythologized album in the history of pop music, and one of the best ever made by anybody, including the sainted Beatles. And, as an added bonus, the tales of excess and degradation that came out of the Nellcote villa, the decaying mansion where Keith Richards and Anita Pallenberg tried to play family in a sleepy, hazy atmosphere of sex, drugs and rock and roll, only served to rehabilitate the Stones’ outlaw image.

“Stones in Exile,” the hour-long visual accompaniment to the recent reissue of Exile, revisits the making of a record that was initially misunderstood before everyone figured out that it was a work of artistic genius and it does so with beautiful, intelligent editing that doesn’t get in the way of what is a compelling story. As Mick Jagger says, while back at Olympic Studios, where the groundwork for Exile was laid, talking about recording sessions is boring. “Stones in Exile” splits the difference, providing just enough real insight about the technical side of things to appease those who care about such things, while wonderfully re-creating the laissez-faire environment that led to Exile’s black magic, this album of dissolute beauty, a loose, shambolic shakedown of zombie-like gospel, drug-sick country and blues, and murky rock with undertones as scary and dangerous as voodoo.

True, it’s a cliché. But, this definitive documentary, with its well-placed pieces of vintage still photography of the Stones, period film from the infamous, and secretive, “Cocksucker Blues” movie and extensive variety of interviews with Exile survivors - all of the Stones, with Mick Taylor, included, plus Pallenberg, producer Jimmy Miller, engineer Andy Johns, the crazed, but exceedingly likeable, Texan saxophone player Bobby Keys - does put the viewer smack dab in the middle of Exile’s long, humid birth. You’re there in the kitchen and huge basement of Nellcote, watching the Stones deal with the region’s stifling summer heat, walls full of condensation and near constant equipment malfunctions, while improvising on the fly to overcome it all.

You’re in the famed mobile recording studio truck and its confined walls as the techies attempt the high-wire act of trying to record various Stones performing in different places inside the house. You’re in Richards’ massive bedroom, sleeping away the day and doing smack until going to work late at night and not coming out until morning, or even the afternoon, whether Mick was there or not. And, of course, you’re there lying on one of the exotic rugs, hung over after a long bender, among all the other hangers-on similarly affected, all of you wondering whether you should stay or go.

That’s just a small sampling of scenes from the tour of hell “Stones in Exile” guides you through. Above it all hangs that feeling of disconnectedness the Stones experienced while exiled from their homeland and there’s plenty of conversation about how much of that influenced the album. Tack on 90 minutes of behind-the-scenes bonus footage, with music heavyweights like the White Stripes’ Jack White, Don Was and Liz Phair, among others, offering praise and spot-on analysis of Exile’s virtues, and “Stones in Exile” succeeds as a slice of nostalgia, a history lesson and a work of art.

It’s already been a big year for Exile, what with the reissue and “Stones in Exile” being aired on NBC-TV’s “Late Night With Jimmy Fallon” and Fallon’s week-long celebration of Exile leading up to the event. Watch for the restoration and release of the 1972 concert film “Ladies And Gentlemen … The Rolling Stones” on Blu-Ray later this year, the result of a two-movie deal between the Stones and Eagle Rock Entertainment. Have you got Exile on Main Street fever yet?

-       -  Peter Lindblad