Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me

I caught the area premiere of the Big Star film "Nothing Can Hurt Me" last night at the Brattle Theatre in Cambridge.

Im probably not alone here, but a big reason I'm drawn to documentaries about artists or athletes or other figures who "might have been" are the tales of adversity. Big Star's story, particularly that of the band's founder but lesser-known star Chris Bell, is no exception. 

I'm a huge fan of Bell, and ever since my pal Lee highly recommended I check out I Am the Cosmos, I've felt I could say with certainty it's better than anything Alex Chilton ever did post-Big Star. 

I don't say this because I feel you have to support one co-leader over the other. In fact, as the film touched on, Chilton's support is a big reason the "I Am the Cosmos" single was released in the first place (with the album of the same name coming out 13 years after Bell's death). Chilton also adds beautiful backing vocals to "You and Your Sister" in what has to be considered the final collaboration between two unsung musical geniuses. 

Regardless, and although the Chilton-led band released two great albums following Bell's departure, it's safe to say Big Star wouldn't have been Big Star without Chris Bell. 

So, like I said, it's the stories of adversity, particularly those that tug on my heart strings that reel me in when I take in such a documentary. One such moment from this thoroughly fascinating and highly enjoyable film really stands out to me. 

Bell's brother and sister sit on the couch of their family home as Bell's sister Sara struggles to put her feelings about her brother's career and life into words for the interviewer. She definitely has regrets, and hesitates as she seems to let the word resentment slip out of her mouth. David, her older brother, takes the pressure off by calmly interjecting, "You'd rather have him instead of having the music out there."

It's impossible to take issue with such an assessment coming from a loved one. Personally, I suppose I wish Bell and his family could have had the best of both worlds.

Beyond the Lighted Stage

The first of two Boston area screenings of the Rush documentary Beyond the Lighted Stage opened with an appearance by Donna Halper, the Dorchester native and former Cleveland radio music director who is credited with discovering Rush by playing "Working Man" on her station back in 1974. The opener for Friday's upcoming second showing will be the local Rush tribute band Lotus Land, and while that piques my curiosity, I'm glad I opted for this particular night.

She briefly told her Rush discovery story, including offering credit that's not given in the film, to Bob Roper, the A&M Canada executive who sent her the record. She also lamented the fact that Rush is not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, a situation that I'm sure will eventually be rectified, although surprisingly they are getting a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

The movie itself is interesting, informative, nostalgic and occasionally hilarious. Yes, I said hilarious, and in no way do I mean to make fun of the film by saying so. Particularly funny are some of the interviews with artists influenced by Rush, such as actor/musician Jack Black, Skid Row's Sebastian Bach, The Smashing Pumpkins' Billy Corgan, Rage Against the Machine's Tim Commerford and Foo Fighters' Taylor Hawkins.

Just a few of the film's notable moments:

• Bach laughing about how, as a 12-year old, a rock album—Rush’s 2112—influenced him to dive into Ayn Rand and other literary greats.
• Metallica's Kirk Hammett referring to Rush as "the high priests of conceptual metal."
• The age old demographic discussion of the gender of Rush fans. Alex Lifeson says they're 100% male, but he's obviously wrong. Approximately 15-20% of Sunday night's crowd at Arlington's Regent Theatre are proud female fans.

Of course, there are many more highlights, but I recommend you find out for yourself. The most interesting point that I came away with was the parallel between the early career paths of Rush and the band that was the subject of I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, the last movie I saw at this little theatre. On the verge of being dropped by their record label, Rush decided they were going to go out with a bang on 2112, just as Wilco refused to give in to record label pressures when they released Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

For both bands, the album on which they refused to give in became their breakthrough, and the turning point in their careers. Wilco, of course, has a long way to go to reach the distinction that this film has bestowed on Rush, of being the world's biggest cult band.

Beer Wars

About once a year it seems, I do a post about a movie, and this year a documentary about one of my favorite subjects earns the honor.

Beer Wars offers the viewer an inside look at the American beer industry, particularly from the perspective of two small-time brewers, Dogfish Head's Sam Calagione and Moonshot's Rhonda Kallman. These two are quite the contrast in terms of success, though, as Dogfish has thrived in its underdog role, while the film portrays Moonshot as on the verge of ultimate failure.

Not that I really needed any incentive to stay away from the products of Anheuser Busch and MillerCoors, but the film takes my dislike for the U.S.'s largest brewer to another level. At the risk of echoing every other bleeding liberal—which I'm really not, because I do believe in the free market system—who advocates for the little guy versus the evil of big business, this movie has me truly considering a boycott of Anheuser Busch and all of its brand names. That list includes Monster Energy, a company guilty of its own transgressions against Vermont's Rock Art Brewery.

Here's a little clip from the movie, in which Calagione discusses Anheuser Busch's frivolous lawsuit versus Dogfish. A spoiler alert isn't really necessary, because this is a documentary, after all, but this is one of the film's better examples of the corporate giant's anti-competitive practices.



The narrator refers to Anheuser Busch as a monopoly, which I don't think is technically true. Although approximately one of every two beers sold in the United States is one of their products, MillerCoors also has a market share of about 28%, so I think the characterization of Anheuser Busch as a monopoly is a bit of an exaggeration.

Also of interest is that both Anheuser Busch and Monster Energy have been unsuccessful in their lawsuits versus these smaller brewers. I'm not sure what came of the former's case, but I do know that Monster dropped their suit against Rock Art as a result of public backlash.

As far as I'm concerned, they can use advertising to pull the wool over the eyes of all the non-discriminating beer consumers they want, but when a company with 50% of an industry's market share tries to bring down a "competitor" with 0.002%, over something as trivial as how generic the names of their beers are, that's a slap in the face of capitalism. I also have no problem with the fact that Anheuser Busch makes terrible beer. It's their prerogative to do so, just as it's mine to not drink it, and their popularity is more than enough justification that their swill-producing business model is a successful one.

I'm sure it could be argued that all corporate giants are guilty of anti-competitive tactics, at least to some extent. But a major difference between Anheuser Busch and Coca-Cola, for instance, is the latter doesn't have to resort to such measures because, although there are folks who prefer Pepsi, Coke's products are actually good. There is no Dogfish Head of the soda industry, and the reason there isn't is because there's no niche for the little guy to make a superior product to the big guy.

But, we're not talking about soda here. We're talking about an industry that means a great deal to me, so it's one that has me considering taking a stand, which is harder than you would think. But, I'm not going to get into that right now. What I am going to do is recommend you check out Beer Wars: rent it, Netflix it, order it on demand. Or, if you're one of those people lucky enough to live near one of these locales, check out a screening:

• February 21 in Portland OR 
• February 28 in Portsmouth NH 
• March 25 on Long Island 
• June 27 in New York City

While we're on the subject, and since it is Friday, promise me that you'll enjoy a craft beer or two...or three...this weekend.

Slumdog Millionaire

Yesterday, I was reading the latest issue of Paste, which happens to be the magazine that decided to assume the subscription list for alt-country bi-monthly No Depression—a publication that I previously had subscribed to from 1997 to 2004—after that magazine folded earlier this year. It was their year-end Best of 2008 issue, so the first thing I did was check out their picks for the year's top music. There were probably at least 7 that their top 25 will have in common with my eventual list, but it was their movie picks that had the most influence on me yesterday.

In reality it was just one movie pick that I'm referring to here. In reviewing Firaaq, their #1 movie of 2008, the reviewer states that "for all the praise showered on Slumdog Millionaire this year, it wasn't even the best film shot in India". That distinction, of course, goes to Firaaq, but for some reason it was the mention of Slumdog that stayed with me.

Later that day, when I was discussing with my new girl what movie we might go to that night, I read her the description and we decided it sounded interesting. I hadn't even heard of the movie prior to yesterday, but when we arrived for the 9:40 showing at the Kendall Square Cinema, a medium-sized theater that shows mostly independent films, we noticed the sign on the door telling us that the 6:45 and 8:15 showtimes had been sold out.

When the film began, we instantly understood why it had become so popular. Riveting from start to finish, Slumdog tells the tale of Jamal Malik, an uneducated 18-year old orphan from the poorest class of Indian society, who advances to the final round of his country's version of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? Under suspicion for cheating—how could a "slumdog" know the answers to all of the show's questions?—the film depicts how Jamal learned the answers to the questions through a series of flashbacks to his unfortunate life experiences.

Once was easily my favorite film of 2007, and Slumdog Millionaire will no doubt earn that honor for 2008, not that I have the same penchant for rating movies as I do music. It alternates between being cute, sad, funny, romantic, suspenseful, dramatic and action-packed, making a statement about personal moral choice in the face of economic adversity in the process. If you see only one independent film the rest of this year, this should be it. Although, if this truly is only the second best movie filmed in India this year, then I really need to see Firaaq.

Frequent Spins (2008.8)

Now that baseball season is over, my focus turns to my other obsession...

Damien Jurado - Caught in the Trees
Damien Jurado has drawn frequent comparisons to fellow alternative singer/songwriter Richard Buckner. There are certainly strong similarities between the two, although I'm fairly sure that Jurado falls well short of Buckner on the "toughest guy in indie rock" scale. His music reflects a slightly less caustic attitude as well. His latest, Caught in the Trees, falls far short of the brilliance of 2005's And Now That I'm in Your Shadow, my personal favorite, but is another strong effort from the Seattle-born punk rocker-turned-folkster.

Lambchop - OH (Ohio)
I'm not sure when this band first appeared on my radar. It was probably in the early part of this decade, although it may have been as far back as the late-90s. Despite their potential as one of the most unique bands to emerge from the alt-country scene, employing a sound that draws from a variety of styles and truly transcends that classification, they've never really produced an album that has completely grabbed my attention. That is, until now. OH (Ohio) has all of the standard elements of a Lambchop record, achieving high marks in the pleasantly melodic and slightly melancholy categories. But, also thrown in are a couple of excellent upbeat tracks, namely "National Talk Like a Pirate Day" and "Sharing a Gibson with Martin Luther King, Jr.", and these serve as an added bonus that rounds out the album rather nicely.

Okkervil River - The Stand-Ins
It was surprising to me that some of the press I read about Okkervil River's 2007 release, The Stage Names, portrayed it as their breakthrough, with some going so far as to call it a masterpiece. As good as it was, it paled in comparison to the epic Black Sheep Boy, and so does The Stand-Ins. That's far from an insult, though, and I actually feel that this year's effort edges out last year's, if only by a nose. Both are less fractured and urgent as Black Sheep Boy, and in this vein, The Stand-Ins, to me, does a better job of pulling off a more polished feel. Highlights include the duet with Shearwater's Jonathan Meiburg, "Lost Coastlines", as well as "Starry Stairs" and "On Tour With Zykos", the latter of which includes my favorite lyrics on the album: "So I wonder who you got your hooks in tonight; was she happy to be hooked, and on your arm did she feel alive, her head all light?" That almost reminds me of their true masterpiece.

Of Montreal - Skeletal Lamping
I don't want to sound like a broken record here, nor do I wish to be the music fan who's never satisfied with anything a band does after the album that carved their niche as one of his favorite artists. It's just that this is the third record in this installment of Frequents Spins that is by an artist who has previously been bestowed yearly top ten honors, with a fourth to follow, all from the years 2004 to 2007. That's four out of 40, or 10%, in case you're a bit math-challenged. In this case, despite lukewarm reviews, I wouldn't be surprised if this is the album that vaults Of Montreal to that next level of success, otherwise known as the territory inhabited by such bands as Modest Mouse, Wilco and The Shins. Singer/guitarist Kevin Barnes is certainly enjoying the glam-rock references and David Bowie comparisons, and--in case anyone was wondering--he repeatedly asserts "you should know that I go both ways", on "For Our Elegant Caste". Again, despite its less than overwhelming critical praise, Skeletal Lamping is so consistently good, but not great, that it's difficult to say what my favorite tracks are, although "Mingusings" is certainly one. But, I'm sorry to say that it's just nowhere near as good as last year's Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?

The Streets - Everything is Borrowed
The Streets' 2004 release A Grand Don't Come for Free was a concept album that could be described as a slacker version of a lad-lit novel set to hip-hop inspired pop music. Possibly because of the bumbling nature of the protagonist, I always pictured him as a hipper version of Simon Pegg's character in his movie released that same year, Shaun of the Dead. After the success of that album, and its predecessor Original Pirate Material, Mike Skinner pondered the trappings of celebrity on The Hardest Way to Make an Easy Living. It was a major disappointment, and a perfect example of one of the true pitfalls of success: a diminishing supply of quality source material. Skinner returns to his prime form by getting a bit philosophical on his latest, particularly as he states, on the refrain of the album's title track, "I came to this world with nothing, and I leave with nothing but love; everything else is just borrowed". Other highlights include the samaritan-esque "On the Edge of a Cliff", the spiritually moralistic "Alleged Legends", and the wonderful album closer "The Escapist".

Also spin-worthy
The Verve - Forth
Crooked Fingers - Forfeit/Fortune
Annuals - Such Fun