THE MONKEES - HEAD (FILM) @ 55

 

It was 55 years ago today when the one and only feature film by The Monkees, HEAD, officially hit theatre screens with its New York City premier on November 6th, 1968. While the film systematically dismantled the band's carefully cultivated pre-teen "manufactured image" in the hopes of appealing to a more mature, progressive counterculture audience, it ended up only alienating existing fans while the hipsters never even gave it a chance due to the band's reputation. And while it was initially a staggering commercial flop, ravaged by critics of the time, something strange happened in the decades following its release. Since then, it has become a deeply treasured cult film, inspiring in-depth analysis and speculation and, in retrospect, is seen as one of the very few films of the psychedelic era to actually capture the true experience of the trip, rather than portray it within the context of a "cautionary tale".

At the time the idea began floating about for doing a Monkees movie, the TV series was wrapping up its second and final season. Both the band and the show's producers were looking to break out of the format of the TV show. While it had been an innovation in TV structures at the time, it still had its own very rigid internal formula, one designed to mostly appeal to a younger audience and was only mildly concerned with making any kind of philosophical or political statements. Everyone essentially knew they simply weren't interested in creating a feature length version of a Monkees TV show episode. In order to help redefine their position and plot a course forward, Bob Rafelson, the show's creator and producer, hired friend and then an unknown young actor by the name of Jack Nicholson to help with the script. As his first foray into the world of feature films, Rafelson was entirely expecting that this might be his only chance to make a movie, so he set the basic premise that he wanted HEAD to be a collection of vignettes, each with a different reference to a Hollywood trope or style. If this was the only movie he'd ever get the chance to make, he wanted to make every kind of movie he's ever loved.

In order to flesh out the details of this conception, Bob, Jack and the band ensconced themselves at an Ojai, California, resort, where, with tape recorder constantly rolling, they got high and brainstormed their little hearts out, spewing forth a barrage of disparate ideas and scenarios, allowing nothing to limit their imagination. At one point, someone asked Bob what the blackest thing in the universe could be and, thinking for a moment, he concluded it was Victor Mature's hair, thus concocting the premise that the entire movie takes place in his hair. After the weekend brainstorming session was completed, Jack took the tapes and began the impossible task of trying to stitch all these crazy notions together into a script that could make some sort of thematic sense. He had to craft ways to get from one scene to another with no apparent connection between them. In the end, he came up with an approach that took the viewer on a journey as if they were watching the TV, flipping through channels and landing on random programs, with a continuity of themes that would keep surfacing again and again with each change of the channel. Ideas of media control, packaging, pandering to expectations, confinement, interpretation and escape all wove themselves together through this madcap journey, dissecting the band's image and intent, and rebuilding it into a commentary on popular culture and the nature of reality itself. Ambitious stuff for something that looked like a hodgepodge mess from the outside.

The music for the film was obviously still an integral component and the band made every effort to ensure that its maturity and sophistication went well beyond anything they'd done before. With two original songs from Peter, one from Mike, one from Harry Nilsson and two more from Carole King, they had a half dozen solid compositions to work with. As well as the band's own performances, session musicians included such luminaries as Neil Young, Leon Russell, Ry Cooder and Stephen Stills. For Mike's Circle Sky, the band were filmed performing the song live, with absolutely zero augmentation or post production overdubs. It's a roaring proto-punk raver that shows the group off as the tight, intense garage band they had become in the real world. Carole King's Porpoise Song became the visual highlight of the film as they utilized the then unknown technique of solarization, a process which was expensive and difficult to achieve and which ultimately caused delays in the post production phase, pushing back the release date. For the accompanying soundtrack album, Jack Nicholson was put in charge of editing the LP together, taking the half dozen songs and interspersing them with a cut-up assemblage of audio and score music cues from the film. The end result is something akin to the likes of Nurse With Wound or Negativland, with bizarre juxtapositions of dialogue and sound effects creating bridges between the album's core musical elements.

Production on the film got off to a rocky start, with the band discovering that only Jack would get scripting credits, something that was necessitated by industry union rules at the time requiring a single name to be associated with the screenplay. There were also disputes over the wages being paid to the band, which resulted in the group going on strike the first day of shooting, with only Peter showing up to the set. It was pretty tense and the friction between Rafelson and the band afterwards never really resolved itself, leaving a permanent rift between the producer and the band.

Promotion of the film was approached with the same sense of experimentation which had driven the creation of the movie. Inspired by Andy Warhol's film, Blowjob, which shows nothing but a man's head and expressions as he receives oral copulation, the poster for the film and the TV ad showed the head of John Brockman, who did the PR for the film. As a gag, the title, HEAD, was chosen because the producers were looking forward to their next film project, where their promotions could proudly proclaim, "from the people who gave you HEAD". The ad taglines summarized it as a "most extraordinary adventure, western, comedy, love story, mystery, drama, musical, documentary satire ever made (And that's putting it mildly)." The band themselves were conspicuously absent.

The evening of the NYC premier, Rafelson commented that he and Nicholson were arrested "for trying to put a sticker on a police officer's helmet as he mounted his horse." With the film deliberately destroying the mythology of the band, young Monkees fans were completely turned off by the product and the critics took it as an opportunity to destroy the band in print. With nearly nonexistent box-office receipts, the film vanished from theatres with little notice and it began its journey through the cultural underworld, waiting to be reappraised by the public.

My first exposure to the movie came on December 30, 1974, when CBS aired it as their Late Movie after the 11 o'clock news. I happened to be out with my parents at their friends place, where I stumbled on the film on TV and got a chance to see roughly half of it before I was yanked away from the screen so we could go home. I desperately tried to find it when we did get home, but it seemed to have vanished from the airwaves. I was a fan of the TV series and had no idea what this was, but I knew I LOVED IT! I was only 11 years old at the time, but something about it mesmerized me. Yet I had no opportunity to see the complete film again until about 1989, when I was loaned a VHS tape with a dub of the film on it, accompanied by John Water's Desperate Living. I watched the two movies while out of my mind on mescaline and had a religious experience with both of them. At that point, I became an evangelist for HEAD, insisting on showing it to everyone and anyone who I could get to sit down in front of my TV for 90 minutes, preferably under the influence of a suitably potent psychedelic substance. There wasn't a single case where the film didn't make an impact, and there are a number of converts who were created by my efforts. I eventually got VHS, then DVD editions of the movie and, once the internet came into common use, discovered that there were many others out there who had come to appreciate the movie the way I do. I still consider it in my top three favourite films of all time, which includes the aforementioned Desperate Living, and The Holy Mountain by Alejandro Jodorowsky.

In recent years, there have been many people who have done in-depth explorations of the film's themes and structure. It has spawned actual university courses! The book The Monkees, Head, and the 60s, written by Peter Mills, who taught the university course, offers an excruciatingly detailed exploration of every element of the film, including the threads that lead to its creation and the aftermath of its release. For many, myself included, it is a critical document of 1960s counterculture. Director, Bob Rafelson, went on to produce groundbreaking films like Easy Rider and Five Easy Pieces. For fans of the band, who have long since embraced the film in all its eccentric glory, it has become an indispensable chapter in the band's legacy, one which proves beyond any doubt that they were artistically and creatively valid beyond any criticism for their "manufactured" origin.

BLACK SABBATH -SABBATH BLOODY SABBATH @ 50

 

Marking its golden anniversary this month is the fifth studio LP from Black Sabbath, Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, which was released 50 years ago in November of 1973. As the band struggled to regroup after an exhausting tour and expand their musical pallet, their eventual success created perhaps the album defining the pinnacle of their career.

On the back of the release of their previous LP, VOL. 4, the band had burned themselves out on a tour which ended up being cut short when guitarist Tony Iommi collapsed during their LA gig from a combination of overwork and overindulgence, blazing out on the tail of a massive cocaine binge which had been going on for days. The situation for the guitarist was nearly life-threatening and precipitated the band taking their first actual vacation period since the group was founded. After spending some time apart to rest and recuperate, the initial plan was to take the same approach to their next album as had been so successful on their previous, so they booked into the same LA studios and began their first attempts at buckling down and getting to work. The problem was that Tony was bone dry in the inspiration department and the rest of the band were entirely dependant on him to get the ball rolling when it came to songwriting. Other factors, like their continued substance abuse, also conspired to diffuse their focus and make it impossible to recreate the atmosphere of the previous album. Even their favourite room in the studio wasn't available as it had been overtaken by a massive synthesizer system installed by Stevie Wonder.

After floundering in frustration in LA for a month, the group decided a change of venue was in order and opted to head back to the UK where they rented Clearwell Castle in the Forest of Dean, Gloucestershire, England, in which the likes of Led Zeppelin, Mott the Hoople and Deep Purple wrote and recorded. The castle provided a suitably ominous creepiness for them to work, with the armoury and dungeon offering particularly spooky settings. Band members even reported sightings of ghostly apparitions while wandering the castle's dimly lit hallways, though given their penchant for chemical indulgence, who knows what they actually saw. The group were also prone to pranking each other in the most vicious manner, which significantly amped up the sense of fear and paranoia, resulting in some members refusing to sleep there and, in the case of drummer Bill Ward, who often seemed to get the worst of it, he insisted on sleeping with a dagger at hand.

Mayhem aside, the creative damn burst, thanks to the ominous setting, when Iommi stumbled on the riff for the album's title track. Up to that point, they were seriously starting to think that they were finished, but once they hit on that riff, they knew they were back. By this time, they were also looking to expand the diversity of their sound, so they started to incorporate more experimental elements like strings, keyboards and synthesizer. Ozzy had picked up a MOOG synth and the group even got Yes keyboardist, Rick Wakeman, to guest on Sabbra Cadabra, though he refused payment for his work and was happy to receive a few beers as compensation. The group even attempted experiments with instruments like bagpipes and sitars, but these proved unsatisfactory and were abandoned from the sessions. At one point, members of Led Zeppelin dropped in for a visit and an impromptu jam session was recorded, but never released.

Once the album was completed and released, the band were surprised to find that they actually created something the British music press were willing to acknowledge as a good album. Their previous works had notoriously been dismissed by UK critics, so it was a surprising about-face to finally receive a bit of praise from this quarter. But as Ozzy later commented, he felt like he should have called it quits from the band after this release as the writing was on the wall that their peak had been reached. Internal conflicts and tensions between the band members were about to take their tole. They were far too dependant on Iommi to get songs written and Geezer Butler was also feeling like Osborne was far too reliant on him to come up with lyrics.

The album went on to become a commercial success as well as garnering critical raves. Within the scope of the band's canon, many consider it the high water mark of their career. After this, their conflicts and personal demons would undercut their ability to work together successfully. They still had three more LPs in their pockets before the original lineup would fracture, but none of those would be considered in the same light as their first five.

FRIPP & ENO - (NO PUSSYFOOTING) @ 50

 

Released 50 years ago this month, the debut LP from Fripp & Eno, (No Pussyfooting), is marking its golden anniversary. As well as being a notable cornerstone in the evolution of ambient music, the album's technical innovations are worthy of appreciation. It's a minimalist approach which primarily used Robert Fripp's guitar as the principal sound source (although Eno does incorporate some synth into the background loops of the second track). The key innovation here is Eno's implementation of a dual reel-to-reel tape system, which linked the two decks in such a way that sounds recorded on one deck were carried over by the tape for playback on the second, which in turn would feed the sound back to the first. The effect was to create a long echo effect with a correspondingly extended decay envelop. The result was a droning sound, which multiplied a single note into near infinite overlapping layers, where subtle variations in playing could create complex harmonic interactions. The album, using this technique, includes two side-long compositions, recorded at discrete sessions nearly a year apart: "The Heavenly Music Corporation" on side one, and "Swastika Girls" on side two. The title for the latter song originated with the discovery of a porno magazine fragment on the pavement, which Eno happened upon while walking towards the studio the night of the mix. The page featured the title phrase, along with a photo of naked girls with swastika emblems on their arms. The fragment was brought to the studio and kept on the mixing desk throughout the production.

While the titles for the album and "songs" offer zero indication of any real connection to the sound of the record, the cover photo is quite a literal interpretation, showing the two artists sitting in a small mirror lined room, with infinite reflections receding off into the distance. They are separated by a small table, upon which are a series of "nudie" cards, displayed in a manner which appears to suggest some sort of perverse Tarot reading.

At the time of its release, the album was very poorly received. The record label was utterly opposed to it, given that Eno was launching his post Roxy Music solo career in parallel with the issuing of this bizarre and inexplicable album. With "Here Come the Warm Jets" featuring mostly radio friendly pop music, they were fretting over fans and critics becoming confused by the non-sequitur nature of (No Pussyfooting). The album did receive some favourable reviews, but most critics ignored it, and commercial sales were minimal enough to ensure the album stayed well away from any charts. Yet in retrospect, and with the benefit of hindsight, the visionary nature of the album has become far more apparent, and subsequent reappraisal has elevated it to a substantive level of influence and admiration. It certainly had an impact on artists like David Bowie, who would soon involve both musicians in some of his most innovative works.

THE THE - SOUL MINING @ 40

 

Released on October 21st, 1983, "Soul Mining," The The's debut album, celebrates its 40th anniversary today. Although Matt Johnson had released a solo album in 1981 that eventually became part of The The's discography, "Soul Mining" remains his formal debut and includes some of his most memorable and iconic songs.

The The began gaining momentum in late 1982 with the release of the single "Uncertain Smile," followed by "Perfect" in early 1983. Both songs gained significant popularity on underground dance floors on both sides of the Atlantic. By the time the album was ready for release, Johnson had cultivated a substantial audience for his work. Initially, Johnson signed with CBS Records after a bidding war, but his relationship with the label soured after the New York recording sessions, which produced the two singles, floundered due to conflicts with producer Mike Thorne. Johnson then relocated back to the UK and switched signed to Some Bizzare & Epic Records.

The initial UK recording sessions aimed to revive Johnson's concept for the album, tentatively titled "The Pornography of Despair." However, those sessions did not meet with Matt's satisfaction, leading him to abandon his plans and start the album from scratch. He renamed the project "Soul Mining" and composed a mostly new set of songs. These were demoed with Johnson using a four-track porta-studio, with Matt handling vocals, guitar, keyboards, and a drum machine. When it came to assembling studio musicians for recording, The The used a residency of live performances at the Marquee club in central London as an audition for potential contributors. From these events, Johnson found talents like Orange Juice drummer Zeke Manyika, DIY synthesizer pioneer Thomas Leer, and the experimental Australian musician Jim Thirlwell, credited on the album under one of his early aliases, "Frank Want." Thirlwell would later achieve significant success with his "Foetus" project, also signed to Stevo's label. The re-recorded version of "Uncertain Smile" replaced the sax solo with a piano solo performed by Jools Holland, who delivered the performance in a single take after only a brief listen to part of the backing track.

For the release of the album, Johnson's brother Andrew contributed another of his paintings, which had also been used for both the "Uncertain Smile" and "Perfect" single covers. Later reissues of the album substituted a photo of Matt on the cover. Album sales were somewhat modest at first, but it has remained a consistent seller over the years and has since achieved gold record status. The critical response to the album was decidedly positive, with Johnson's lyrical complexity and emotional depth well appreciated compared to the banal material that dominated the pop charts of the day.

PSYCHIC TV - DREAMS LESS SWEET @ 40

 

Celebrating its 40th anniversary today is Psychic TV's sophomore studio LP, 'Dreams Less Sweet', which was released on October 21, 1983. While the band's debut LP, 'Force the Hand of Chance', left the sounds of Throbbing Gristle far behind, PTV's second album demonstrated that, even with the radical departures of their debut, they were still finding new structures to explore and could not be confined to any particular genre or strategic approach. Indeed, the album forges entirely new cornerstones for musical exploration, departing from the almost conventional pop song structures of the first album in favour of a near-classical aesthetic, with short movements carefully interconnected to create a narratively intricate sonic suite.

While still signed to Stevo's Some Bizzare Records, they had the luxury of working with a budget that allowed for the use of some state-of-the-art equipment, including the Zuccarelli Holophonics system, an experimental binaural recording process. This technology utilized a complex sound imaging technique which was capable of creating three dimensional effects using standard stereo speakers. Though headphones provided the optimum listening experience, properly phase aligned loud speakers were able to accomplish the illusion as well. The system does not use standard microphones; instead, it relies on a set of sound pickups housed in a physical 'body' designed to replicate human hearing physiology as accurately as possible.

For recording 'Dreams Less Sweet', this device was used in a variety of ways to capture unique acoustic environments, including extensive location recordings in places like The Hellfire Club caves, Christ Church in Hampstead, and Caxton Hall. Even the sound inside a coffin was captured using the device. This experimental recording process also drove the group to pursue different musical directions, combining aspects of folk, ethnic music, neo-classical and musique concrète. The focus was primarily on natural acoustic sounds, with minimal use of amplified instruments such as guitars, synthesizers, or drum machines, as were common on the first album.

Conceptually, the album represents a set of complex layers of themes and symbols, involving every facet of the production, from the composition of the music to the smallest elements of the graphic design. Whether it was the flower on the front symbolizing a pierced genital, the location of the group shot on the back cover, or the subtle wolves hidden behind chain-link fencing, every element was meticulously considered, calculated, and integrated into the whole. Musically, this included a song composed by Charles Manson and another with lyrics derived from the final sermon of Jim Jones during the Jonestown massacre. At its most subtle and sweet, the album's subliminal implications were often at their darkest and most subversive. When it reached its crescendo of chaos with a flurry of honking car horns, it was at the peak of its innocence and optimism.

The album stands as the single most complex and multifaceted work Psychic TV ever produced, and also their most sophisticated, technically. Shortly after the completion of the album, a rift developed between co-founders Genesis P-Orridge and Peter Christopherson, with the latter and his partner, Geoff Rushton (henceforth known as Jhon Balance), splintering off to found their Coil project. PTV's relationship with Stevo also floundered, resulting in the founding of Temple Records, their own independent label imprint. From here, Psychic TV would venture into more traditional rock structures, entering into their "Hyperdelic" phase, exemplified by the Godstar single, before changing course again into the Acid House electronica vein, which would define their work in the latter half of the 1980s and beyond. While PTV would occasionally get experimental with their music throughout the remainder of their career, nothing they did after 'Dreams Less Sweet' came close to the sophistication and complexity achieved on that album.

PUBLIC IMAGE LTD - PUBLIC IMAGE b/w THE COWBOY SONG @ 45

 

Released on October 13th, 1978, Public Image Ltd's debut single, Public Image b/w The Cowboy Song, turns 45 years old today.  It's a single which could arguably be positioned as the cornerstone of post-punk.

After the chaotically spectacular implosion of the Sex Pistols on their first US tour in January of 1978, the music world was eagerly awaiting to see what frontman Johnny Rotten would conceive of as an encore.  Few could have foreseen that he had far more in mind than merely "business as usual".  The seed for that next step had actually been planted nearly two years earlier during a gig where the Pistols were playing with The Clash, when they were still a five piece with Keith Levene on guitar.  During that gig, Levene and Lydon struck up a chat and vowed that, should they find themselves without their respective bands at some point in the future, they'd hook up for their own musical adventure.  Sure enough, they were true to their word and, after John went on a sojourn down to Jamaica for Richard Branson to scout for reggae bands, the two started to put their new band together before the summer began to bloom.  Finding the next piece of the puzzle was easy, with close friend John Wardle, renamed "Jah Wobble" by a slurring and drunk Sid Vicious, eagerly stepping up to play bass.  The only thing left was to get a drummer, which they did via a music press advert where they eventually unearthed young Canadian jazz drummer, Jim Walker, to round out the quartet.  

All four of these disparate souls were on the same page about one thing at least, and that was the kind of music they wanted to make wouldn't be a continuation of standard punk three chord thrashing.  Keith had very different ideas about what a guitar could do and Wobble was very much looking to bring the depth of dub into the mix.  Combined with the flexibility of Walker's drumming, it didn't take long for the fission of their talents to spark and the first flame they ignited was the song, Public Image.  Lyrically, it was a snarling backlash aimed at his former band and manager, decrying their inability to appreciate what he was offering and only being concerned with his superficial presence.  "You never listen to a word that I said, you only seen me for the clothes that I wear.  Or did the interest go so much deeper, it must've been the colour of my hair."  

The song is propelled by the subsonic throbbing of Wobble's insistent bass, bouncing off the gunshot impacts of Jim's powerhouse drumming.  Filling out the space between the rhythm section and the searing vocals was a wall of harmonic chiming, shimmering and glistening guitar, as Keith shredded out myriads of harmonics from his Veleno aluminum special.  It's a sound that was light years away from the "chug-chug" of punk bar chords, inspiring the later sounds of dozens of guitarists in bands like U2 and The Banshees.  It was a clarion call, a siren, a great bell ringing and declaring a new approach to the instrument.

While the A-side of the single was laying foundation stones for musical futures, the B-side was content to be a prickly prank, demonstrating that PiL were not shy about spending Virgin Records money on a bit of nonsense.  The Cowboy Song takes a galloping western drum & bass rhythm and then slathers it with incomprehensible caterwauling and the irritating noise of a record skipping and scratching, ending it all on a locked groove that repeats that noise indefinitely until the needle is ripped off the record.  It's a juvenile joke which shows how young the band were, but I've always found it rather a good laugh, in the grand scheme of things.  It showed that PiL didn't take themselves too seriously and could have a sense of humour about themselves and the music business.

That sense of humour was also reflected in the packaging, which featured the 7' single being wrapped like a piece of fish in a custom printed sheet of newspaper.  The paper was a parody of the salacious gutter press, which had been stalking Lydon's career from the get-go.  It feature lurid made up stories of the band members, with sensational photos and suitably garish typesetting.  The whole package worked together brilliantly with the band's name, creating a meta-commentary on the music press while ripping its guts out in the song's lyrics.  

The single was a significant hit in the UK, peaking at number 9 in November of that year.  A promotional video was created for the song as well, recreating the PiL live set of the time with its green lighting and draped backdrop.

DEVO - Q: ARE WE NO MEN? @ 45

 

Released on August 28th, 1978, DEVO's debut LP, Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!, turns 45 years old today. After incubating their music and philosophy over the course of some 5 years, the world was introduced to the concept of "De-Evolution", the principal that humanity had peaked as a species and was now backsliding into primitivism and ignorance.

Inspired by the Kent State Massacre of 4 students on May 4th, 1970, co-founder Gerald Casale began to formulate the basic principals of DeEvolution into the band, DEVO, back in 1973. Along with co-founder, Mark Mothersbaugh, brothers Bob 1 & Bob 2 and Alan Myers, the band spent three years developing songs, stagecraft and iconography in order to represent their vision of a degraded, displaced and disjointed dystopian future. By 1977, the group were ready to record and their demo was causing the likes of David Bowie, Iggy Pop, Robert Fripp and Brian Eno to be in the running to produced the album. The job ultimately landed with Eno, who flew the band out to Conny Plank's studio near Cologne, Germany.

Production of the album ended up being something of a battle of wills, as the band held steadfastly to conceptions about how the songs should be produced, while resisting potentially beneficial suggestions from Eno. In later years, band members would express regrets over their stubbornness and refusal to collaborate more openly with Brian. But despite the friction, they managed to produce an album of tight, angular and innovative music, which would prove to be deeply influential as upcoming young artists sought something more than the three chord slash of punk.

I know my own reaction to the band and the album was a sense of revelation. I saw them perform on Saturday Night Live and was immediately won over by their quirky, alien idiosyncrasy, which was counterbalanced by an uncanny sense of nostalgia for mid century modern aesthetics. Parts of it reminded me of music from Warner Bros cartoons, while other aspects left me feeling like I'd stepped into a '50s science fiction B-movie. Coupled with their hazard suited, herky-jerky robotic stage antics, you had the perfect formula for fanatical DEVOtion!

While some critics at the time of its release couldn't quite grasp what the band were doing, the album has still managed to secure a solid position as essential listening from that era, in the ensuing years since its release. It's an album I can still listen to at any time and enjoy its strangeness, while marvelling at its ability to resist sounding dated.