Farewell Concert is a documentation of Eric Clapton, Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker’s final concert performance together as Cream at the Royal Albert Hall on November 26, 1968. It was originally broadcast by the BBC in January of 1969. The film was directed by pioneering rockumentarian Tony Palmer.
Farewell Concert was always regarded as a bit shoddy due to the muddy sound, herky-jerky camera movement and the often out-of-sync editing. To say nothing of the annoying voice over and the fact that the whole thing consists of tight close-ups.
A new version of Farewell Concert was released in 2005 where the musical performance were shorn of the interviews and narration. Three songs were added and the audio was remixed to 5.1 DTS surround.
This weekend is the big Everything Is Festival here in Los Angeles. Cinefamily’s Hadrian Belove and Dimitri Simakis of Everything is Terrible preview the five day fest, which will feature Mark Hosler of Negativland, Neil Hamburger dipping into his personal collection of obscure TV specials made by a 70-year-old grandmother, Andrew W.K. with a motivational lecture, a Firesign Theatre tribute, TV Carnage and others who’ll appear amidst the cinematic mayhem they plan to hurl at the audience. Full schedule here. Get a festival pass before it’s too late!
Destroyer is a Canadian band, but it’s also principally the work of singer/songrwiter Dan Bejar. Earlier this year Destroyer released their 11th album, called Kaputt, to a mixed reception. I kind of get why - this is an album that smells of sun tan lotion, so a mid-January release date seems a bit odd.
Ok, first off I have to admit that I am new to this band. This is worth mentioning at the start because Destroyer have been around for over a decade, have released ten albums already, and Bejar has worked with the acts Swan Lake and New Pronographers. The response to this album from the Destroyer fanbase has been mixed, as it is quite a departure from their better known sound. Some have been turned clean off it by the musical reference points (Avalon-era Roxy Music, Don Henley, Prefab Sprout, mainstream 80s soft rock, I even detect a smidgen of Enya in there). But this hasn’t put me off at all - not just because I admit to having a soft spot for that kind of thing, but because Bejar infuses the album with such a strong personality and sense of musicality that he makes it work, especially over the two final tracks that combined last more than half an hour.
If there was one word I would use to describe this record, it’s “Balearic”. The longest-running myth about the British dance scene is that in 1987 a group of DJs went on holiday to Ibiza, discovered ecstasy, and returned to London to start the acid house revolution. The problem with that is that the renowned DJs in Ibiza at the time were not really playing acid house - they played a mixture of different genres that all tended to fall under the British umbrella term “Balearic” (after the group of islands of which Ibiza is a part). In essence “Balearic” was anything that sounded good on a beach, and in practise this could include some music that dance snobs and music purists would find reprehensible (Chris Rea, The Blow Monkeys, etc).
To me Kaputt captures the essence of those musics perfectly. It’s music for lazing around on sunny summer holidays, for playing on the drive to the beach, or after the barbecue. It’s a perfect post-club record too, as the tracks blend seamlessly into one another bringing to mind a more 80s sounding Air, all held together by Bejar’s unique songwriting and delivery. If there is any justice, this will get picked up by dance fans as their new classic comedown soundtrack.
The Theremin is a unique musical instrument that, according to WIkipedia;
“[was] originally known as the aetherphone/etherophone, thereminophone or termenvox/thereminvox [and] is an early electronic musical instrument controlled without discernible physical contact from the player. It is named after its Russian inventor, Professor Léon Theremin, who patented the device in 1928.”
A cat is a four legged feline animal that, according to Wikipedia;
“[is] also known as the domestic cat or housecat to distinguish it from other felines and felids, [and] is a small, furry, domesticated, carnivorous mammal that is valued by humans for its companionship and for its ability to hunt vermin and household pests. Cats have been associated with humans for at least 9,500 years.”
According to WIkipedia, the word “awesome” means: “...that which inspires awe.”
IT’S CATS PLAYING WITH A FREAKIN THEREMIN!!
BONUS!
You can see the “prequel” (Cats and Mini Theremin Part 1) here.
EXTRA BONUS!
If you were not aware of the existence of these Mini Theremins, they come in kit form, are cheap ($30) and look relatively easy to build. You can purchase a kit (and watch a video demonstrating the building process) at Maker Shed.
If you live in Los Angeles and you love weird, insane, hilarious underground shit—like, say, the kind of fare you might find on the popular Everything Is Terrible! blog—then the second annual Everything Is Festival! is going to be better than your Christmas, Halloween and birthday combined. It’s the film, video and music festival that feels like a holiday. But a really fucked up holiday in a really fucked up country. Or a fucked up planet. (I was there last year, trust me on this one).
Let’s take, for instance, the “Super Cuts and Trash Compactors” show. According to Cinefamily programmer Hadrian Belove, a “trash compactor” is “when you take a film and distill it to its essence”:
Cinefamily’s grabbing the zeitgeist by the nutsack and squeezing the video juice out of the YouTube for all of our viewing pleasure! Tonight we celebrate two of our favorite memes in the viral video world: “supercuts” and “trash compactors.” You know, like when TV Carnage cut together every “Gimmie your badge…and your gun” moment from every shitty cop movie ever made, or when FourFour did a mashup of every time someone said “I’m not here to make friends” on a reality TV show — that’s a “Supercut.”
And when that anonymous editor compressed 120 minutes of Wicker Man Nic Cage insanity into a high-powered two-minute H-bomb of hilarity — that’s a “Trash Compactor.”
This show features our favorite pre-existing classics in these two categories, and a group show bursting full of brand-new premieres by Everything Is Terrible, FourFour, Cinefamily’s own Mondo Squad, and more. I tube, you tube, we all tube for YouTube! Tonight’s show features a live appearance by online video mashup maven FourFour!
Watch the now-classic Trash Compactor featuring every dumb pun delivered by Arnold Schwarzenegger’s “Mr. Freeze” in Batman & Robin:
More on the Everything Is Festival all this week on DM, but you can go here for more information and ticket purchase. Here’s a two-minute version of horror film, Incubus, in which John Cassavetes seems obsessed with sperm.
Primal Scream’s Screamadelica album was like an event when it arrived in 1991. Nirvana’s Nevermind, My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless and Massive Attack’s Blue Lines all came out that year, but my friends and I could not get enough of Screamadelica. Practically everybody I knew was deeply into that record, even the ones who weren’t druggies…
“Loaded,” “Come Together,” “Higher Than The Sun”—Screamadelica is an album meant to be listened to when you are as fucked up as possible. It’s one of the ultimate soundtracks for drug use. (“Higher Than The Sun” sounds particularly good after you’ve inhaled a lungful of nitrous oxide, but then again, almost anything sounds great when you’re high on nitrous).
I recall meeting band-leader Bobby Gillespie along with Creation Records head Alan McGee in New York City, the year it came out. I think it must have been for the New Music Seminar. I met them in the “Kenny Scharf Room” (basement) of the Palladium nightclub on 14th Street and although the conversation began well-enough as I complimented him on a record I just loved, Gillespie’s Scottish accent was very, very strong at the time and I couldn’t understand more than one word in ten. I lived in the UK for two years and normally have no problem with a Scottish accent, but with Gillespie, I had to admit defeat. From the sound of things in this new documentary, his accent has gotten a bit softer over the course of the last two decades. You won’t need subtitles, I don’t think.
Primal Scream’s seminal album Screamadelica was released in 1991, and synthesized the band’s rock ‘n’ roll roots with the dance culture of that time; for many, the album’s sound and imagery came to be regarded as quintessential symbols of the acid house era, perfectly catching the spirit and mood of the early 90s.
Using rare archive footage and special performances, this film tells the story of Screamadelica and its hit singles and dance anthems “Loaded,” “Movin’ On Up,” “Come Together” and “Don’t Fight It, Feel It.” From the formation of the band in Glasgow to winning the first-ever Mercury prize, the band members explain the record’s inception with insights from main producer Andrew Weatherall, Creation Records founder Alan McGee and many others involved with or inspired by this joyful record.
Screamadelica both defines a generation and transcends its time, and is a true Classic Album.
A new DVD, Screamadelica Live has just been released by Eagle Rock Entertainment.
I’d like to thank Flip2k for uploading this track breakdown of The Clash’s epic “London Calling,” one of the great rock and roll anthems of all time. Released in 1979, the song and the album was an immediate classic. It was urgent, angry, anarchic and everything that is beautiful, relevant, and powerful about rock and roll: it moved your soul.
Mick Jones’ guitar sounds like a city in the middle of death throes. The concrete groans. Steel girders grind and shudder. Sirens call out for their lost lovers.
Topper Headon, the armies of darkness stomp to a martial beat. Distant explosions. Thunder under the bridge.
Paul Simonon’s bass is ominous, rousing, undulating and sexy. One of the most indelible riffs in rock and roll.
Joe Strummer’s wail is a warning shot and a call for unity, hope and action, pulled up from the gut of rock and roll. His rasp scratched at reality like a feral cat’s claws.
To toke or not to toke, or rather did he toke, that is the question. That’s right, you heard me, did the Bard smoke weed?
Not to get all “Lord Buckley” on you finger-poppin’ daddys, but is it possible that Willie the Shake was a “viper”? That’s what a controversial paleontologist wants to find out.
After some two dozen pipes were found buried in Shakespeare’s garden, many containing residues of smoked cannabis, a South Africa scientist named Francis Thackeray, with help from Professor Nikolaas van der Merwe of Harvard University, obtained fragments of these pipes via the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust. They handed them over to South African Police forensic scientists for lab analysis. Low levels of marijuana residue was found in the pipes.
Cannabis was known to have been cultivated at the time in England and so it is certainly plausible that Shakespeare partook of the herb superb, but it would take looking at bone samples to say for sure. (Two of the pipes also tested positive for traces of cocaine, but this is a more difficult to swallow than the idea of the Bard smoking the “noted weed,” as cocaine first gets synthesized around the time of the Civil War).
Thackery says that his team could get into Shakespeare’s final resting place—he was buried under a church in Stratford-upon-Avon—unobtrusively, because a full exhumation of the body is not required and the remains would not have to be disturbed at all. Good thing, too, because Shakespeare was notoriously wary of anyone screwing around with his skeleton. A curse is engraved on his tomb that reads:
“Good frend for Jesus sake forebeare/ To digg the dust encloased heare/ Bleste be the man that spares thes stones/ And curst be he that moves my bones.”
If you’ve seen the legendary 1940 screwball comedy His Girl Friday, you’ll know why this edit clocks in at only 8 minutes. If you haven’t seen it, just know that it’s one of the fastest paced and dialogue-heavy films ever made. Director Howard Hawks made sure that Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell spoke their lines over each other as much as they possibly could because, well, that’s what people do in reality.
But all that disappears in this cut by video pro Valentin Spirik. The dialogue is completely cut out, leaving an almost hypnotic quick-cut body of jerky scene sequences layered with incidental verbal and atmospheric noise. Check it out.
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