COIL - HOW TO DESTROY ANGELS @ 40

 

Recorded on February 19th, 1984, Coil's debut EP, How To Destroy Angels, turns 40 years old today. As an example of functional music intended for practical application, it set the standard for the band's uncompromising approach to sound and structure.

At the time of its recording, Jhon Balance and Peter Christopherson were still part of Psychic TV (PTV) and the Temple of Psychick Youth (TOPY), and this project was seen as furthering the exploration of sound as a functional tool, rather than a mere source of entertainment and distraction. Many of the ideas present here were also used when recording the Psychic TV, Themes, bonus LP, which was included with the first pressings of PTV's debut, Force The Hand of Chance. These were sound works that had no concern with standard song structures, an approach that could be rather confusing to listeners who were expecting them to adhere to recognizable conventions of rhythm, melody and verse-chorus-bridge, song structures. None of that was relevant here, which often had these recordings sounding like random noises, devoid of meaning or purpose. The reality was quite the opposite.

For this particular project, the fact that Balance and Christopherson were gay and involved in a relationship with each other became essential elements in the thematic essence of the recording. The intent of its creators was to incite and harness specifically male sexual energy. No offence nor disparagement to females was intended, but this work was simply NOT designed for feminine energy. This requirement during production was even taken to the strictest conditional extremes, where any women at the studio were kindly requested to vacate the building during recording. For this, manly Mars was the focus for the session and it was crucial that nothing diffuse or dissipate that energy. Venus wasn't invited.

For instrumentation, a selection of gongs, cymbals and bells were employed, along with a large corrugated whirling tube, known as a lasso d'amore, corrugaphone, or Bloogle Resonator. The resultant recording was 17 minutes of ritualistic ambience, suitable for personal or group ceremonial use. The original plan was to release it along with another PTV recording, Silence and Secrecy, but Balance & Christopherson had a falling out with TOPY and Genesis P-Orridge over his "cult of personality" and the direction TOPY was going, so any PTV works or resources were now unavailable, including the label imprint, Temple Records. The EP was instead released by L.A.Y.L.A.H. Anti-Records as a standalone, with the B-side initially occupied by an unplayable "noise" side called Absolute Elsewhere. On subsequent repressing, the B-side was repeatedly changed, first to offer a selection of closed loop tones and then a totally blank side.

Although How To Destroy Angels is not typical of Coil's subsequent output, it remains as one of their most enigmatic and effective creations. It's certainly one of my personal favourites when it comes to music with the power to summon distinct and powerful energies. To put it plainly, it's a great record to fuck to, especially if you're gay.

KISS @ 50

 

Released 50 years ago today, on February 18, 1974, the eponymous debut LP from KISS is celebrating its golden jubilee. While the album didn't break the band into the heights that would come with the release of their 1975 "Alive!" set, it gave them the rock solid foundations that would provide the songs needed to make that later LP a classic. So many of the bands most established concert favourites are found on this album, it's impossible not to retroactively consider this as perhaps their most important release.

KISS formally began the year before, after Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons pulled the plug on their Wicked Lester band, when that project failed to come together into the vision they'd been brewing up between them. Originating in 1970 as Rainbow, Wicked Lester was an entity that had evolved a kind of accessible, vaguely psychedelic 1960s pop-rock aesthetic, while Paul & Gene were sensing something heavier, darker and vastly more theatrical bubbling up from their creative juices. That all came clearly into focus when they re-branded themselves as KISS. The founders also changed their names from Gene Klein (who'd already renamed himself from the Hebrew name, "Chaim Witz") & Stanley Eisen to Gene Simmons & Paul Stanley, respectively. They then ditched the dead weight musicians from Wicked Lester, and hired Ace Frehley and Peter Criss to complete their new quartet. The name changes for Gene & Paul were driven by a self-consciousness about being Jewish, and concern over being rejected by mainstream rock audiences because of it. It's a situation that raises a lot of concerns, but the presence of antisemitism in popular culture is unavoidable, and they were certainly not the only entertainers to take such precautions with their personal branding in order to avoid sounding too "ethnic" to "white bread" Anglo-Saxon US audiences.

Bringing a stash of songs forward from the Wicked Lester set, the band had a leg up when it came to getting an album together, though the new arrangements were vastly different from the older demos. You can readily find Wicked Lester versions of KISS songs around, and it's rather striking to hear how dissimilar they sound, pointing to a very conscious contrivance to move away from the airy-fairy sounds of the past, and into decidedly more "metal" territory with the new band. Needless to say, you weren't gonna hear any flutes on a KISS record!

When it came time to record their debut at NYC's Bell Sound Studios, production came together quickly, and the album was essentially completed, start to finish, in just 13 days. The studio was owned by the same company that owned Buddha Records, which was where Neil Bogart was an executive before starting Casablanca Records. This put Neil in the right place to hear the band and sign them to kick off his brand new label. Neil had negotiated a distribution deal with Warner Bros, specifically because they owned the rights to the movie, Casablanca. This association enabled Bogart to appropriate the name, imagery and graphic styling from the movie without having to worry about any copyright or trademark infringement actions from WB. However, when Bogart held an elaborate release party in LA for the KISS album, WB execs were incensed by KISS' outrageous stage antics and appearance. Afterwards WB demanded KISS stop wearing their trademark makeup, but manager Bill Aucoin backed the band and refused to concede to the demands. The result was that WB released Bogart from any further obligation to the company, which on one hand, gave him complete autonomy, but on the other, pulled the funding rug out from under Casablanca's budgets.

With KISS' debut album floundering in sales, Bogart became desperate to generate revenue, so he insisted that KISS needed a hit single, pushing them to record the cover song, Kissing Time, which had been a Top 20 hit for Bobby Rydell in 1959. It was recorded two months after the album was released, but was subsequently added to all future represses and re-releases. Though the single wasn't a hit on its own, it did boost LP sales noticeably after it was added. Sales were also helped as the band made some key TV appearances, the most notorious of which was on the Mike Douglas daytime talk show, aired March 29, 1974. During the interview portion of the show, Gene Simmons awkwardly declared himself to be "evil incarnate", eliciting nervous, confused reactions from the studio audience, to which comedian Totie Fields humorously commented, "Wouldn't it be funny if he's just a nice Jewish boy underneath the makeup?" Although neither confirming nor denying his Jewish heritage, Simmons replied, "You should only know", to which, Fields countered, "I do. You can't hide the hook", referring to Simmons' nose.

The album's cover photo evokes a similar look to that seen on With The Beatles from a decade earlier, with the band members' faces highlighted against a black background. Gene, Paul and Ace all executed their own makeup, but professional makeup artists were used on Peter, though they somewhat missed the mark in terms of recreating his established look. The results were decidedly more "tribal" than "cat-like", and Criss immediately reverted to his usual look after the shoot. Paul had only recently modified his look to the "Star Man" after initially adopting a "bandit" mask. Ace augmented his appearance with some silver, water soluble spray paint in his hair.

The bulk of the songs on the album would end up forming the backbone of KISS' live show for the remainder of the decade and beyond. Strutter, Nothin' To Lose, Firehouse, Cold Gin, Deuce and Black Diamond all became staples, if not linchpin moments for their live theatrics of breathing fire, spitting blood and soloing. I don't think any subsequent album from the group could lay claim to supplying so many critical components for their live performances. Aside from the more recognizable songs, there is also one of my favourite "deep cuts" from the band in the form of the rare instrumental, Love Theme From KISS, which started out as a live club set piece called "Acrobat". It's an excellent little example of New York funk-rock that simply grooves without having to make a spectacle of itself.

While the album's initial sales were disappointing, once the group got some traction with Alive!, fans soon back-tracked to pick up the three studio albums which had come before it, all of which helped their debut be certified gold by June 8th of 1977. For old time KISS fans, their debut album remains a touchstone to the band that many first fell for when they were adolescents and looking for something to alienate their parents. Those first few years were a time when the band had an air of danger and controversy, before they became a "kids" band, pushing comic books and bad superhero movies. KISS were the first band I ever collected, buying all their albums up until Double Platinum and Gene Simmons' solo KISS album in 1978 (I never bought the rest of the solo albums). By that time, it was "punk" and "new wave" that were demanding my allowance money, but I've always had a soft spot for KISS's early years and the memories those records bring back of my junior high teen years in the mid '70s. I even wore platform shoes for a couple of years, and fell off them regularly, like all the other kids my age.

THE MONKEES - INSTANT REPLAY @ 55

 

 

Marking its 55th anniversary today is the seventh studio LP from The Monkees, Instant Replay, which was released on February 15th, 1969. With the crescendo of Monkeemania rapidly diminishing in the band's rear view mirror, it's an album that saw the group grasping at the past in order to try to give themselves a future.

By the time Instant Replay hit the record shops, it had been 11 months since the group's fame making TV series had been cancelled, and the group were also in the wake of a feature film that had died a pitiless death at the box-office, followed by a similarly disastrous TV special, both of which had only befuddled and alienated remaining and dwindling fans of the band. Ravenous critics were also salivating at the chance to trash the band some more. Their previous album, The Birds the Bees and the Monkees (1968), had managed to do well despite just missing the #1 US LP spot after their first four LPs had all smashed to the top, and Daydream Believer had been a #1 hit in December of 1967. But the band were running on fumes in terms of popularity, and Peter Tork had bailed shortly after the thud of the TV special hit the airwaves.

Trying to help regroup and reignite their popularity, Brendan Cahill, the band's former road manager and new music coordinator, encouraged the remaining members to pilfer some of the unreleased recordings that were created prior to their infamous "palace revolt", which saw original music director, Don Kirshner, ousted in order to give the band full creative control of their music. There were still unreleased tracks from their initial 1966/67 sessions that were felt might be enough to spur some chart action, so along with a plethora of newer tracks recorded since The Birds, The Bees and the Monkees, the trio began to assemble a pastiche of an album, mixing older songs along with the newer recordings that were waiting in the wings. It's because of this approach that Peter York still managed to make a guest appearance, by virtue of having worked on one of the older recordings. Of the older tracks, Tear Drop City, a Boyce & Hart song, was selected as the first single, but it failed to chart above #56 in the US. In the UK, the band's fortunes were even more in decline. The album itself managed to still crack the top 40 in the US, peaking at #32, but the writing was surely on the wall.

Though they no longer had a weekly TV series, Mike, Micky & Davy continued to attempt to keep themselves in the public eye by making guest appearances on various TV shows, including sharing a square on Hollywood Squares, and performances on the Johnny Cash & Glen Campbell variety shows, respectively. It still wasn't enough to prevent the inevitable deflation of their career by the end of the decade, and only two more albums would follow, with Mike leaving after the next, before their complete dissolution in 1970.

But like all things connected with the band, a renaissance was in the future, a process that would repeat itself virtually every decade since their initial rise to mega-stardom. In 2011, Rhino Handmade issued a super-deluxe expanded edition of Instant Replay, just as they'd done with many of their other records, packing it with unreleased extras, alternate takes, unfinished demos and other ephemera of the era. While it may not represent the group at their peak, there are still plenty of deep cuts lurking on this album to reward stalwart fans who may be looking for neglected gems.

BRIAN ENO - HERE COME THE WARM JETS @ 50

Marking its golden jubilee today is the debut solo album from Brian Eno, Here Come the Warm Jets, which was released 50 years ago, on February 8th, 1974. While the album's experimentation and innovation rest on numerous contrivances, the end results certainly do not sound contrived.

Eno began working on the album shortly after his departure from Roxy Music, and he would utilized a number of former band-mates to contribute to the record, in a addition to a long list of other extremely varied collaborators. His explicit intent with his selection of guests was to counterpoint them against each other in an attempt to contrast seemingly incompatible styles and personal approaches. He specifically wanted to encourage them to break from their own conventions by being forced to interact with others who worked in entirely different ways. In terms of directing their performances, Eno often resorted to non-verbal instruction, using body language and interpretive dance moves as a means of expressing his intent. Once he'd captured performances from his musicians, he'd then take that raw material and process it in the studio until he attained often unrecognizable end results. Stylistically, he pulled together a pastiche of influences, both contemporary and vintage, incorporating elements of 1950s pop and rock & roll with elements of modern art-rock.

Though Eno didn't consider himself much of a singer, and indeed would mostly abandon that aspect of his creative arsenal in his later works, for his initial "pop" centred albums, he developed an approach to lyrics that involved first making nonsense vocalizations along with the music in order to identify phonetic qualities that best suited the piece. From this point, he'd gradually build in actual words and phrasing that ingrained those qualities, with the meaning of the lyrics being rather secondary to the process. This technique tended to deliver results that were cryptic and free-associative. As a result, Eno discouraged listeners from imposing too much emphasis on the meaning in the words. It's an approach that he'd pass on to people like David Bowie, who'd incorporate the methodology into the albums Eno produced with him during their Berlin era collaborations.

Critical response to the album was near universally positive, with only a few contrarian opinions on the album's merits. Critic Lester Bangs of CREEM declared it "incredible," and noted that "the predominant feel is a strange mating of edgy dread with wild first-time-out exuberance." Robert Christgau of The Village Voice gave it an "A" rating, stating that "The idea of this record, 'Top of the Pops' from 'quasi-dadaist British synth wizard', may put you off, but the actuality is quite engaging in a vaguely Velvet Underground kind of way." With Eno coming off of his association with Roxy Music, he had enough career momentum to make the record a top 40 hit in the UK, making it one of his best selling solo releases, though it barely broke the top 200 in the US. Nevertheless, its legacy has assured it a place as essential listening when it comes to important releases from that era and in terms of appreciating Eno's catalogue in all its diversity.

BLAZING SADDLES @ 50

 

Celebrating its golden anniversary today is Mel Brooks' outrageous western farce, Blazing Saddles, which was first screened on February 7th, 1974. While lampooning the absurdities of racism, it managed to bring the laughs to audiences in enough droves to make it Warner Bros highest grossing comedy of the year.

The idea for the film began with writer/director Andrew Bergman, who'd started off the project with the name "Tex X" as a play on Malcolm X's name. His intent was to write and produce the film himself, hiring Alan Arkin to direct, with James Earl Jones slotted to play the lead of Sheriff Bart. Bergman couldn't get the project off the ground on his own, however, but he'd shown it to Mel Brooks, who took an immediate shine to the concept, so he came to the rescue, buying the rights to the treatment Bergman had put together. The title of "Tex X" was then rejected by Brooks, who felt people would think it was an X-rated adult movie. The title "Black Bart" was kicked around for a bit, but the name was already associated with a white heavyweight boxer from the 19th century. Brooks ultimately came up with "Blazing Saddles" in a flash of inspiration while in the shower one morning.

For script development, Brooks kept Bergman onboard to co-write, and also brought in Richard Pryor, Norman Steinberg and Alan Uger. He had not worked with a writing team since Your Show of Shows, and posted a large sign in the writing room that encouraged: "Please do not write a polite script." Brooks described the writing process as chaotic:

"Blazing Saddles was more or less written in the middle of a drunken fistfight. There were five of us all yelling loudly for our ideas to be put into the movie. Not only was I the loudest, but luckily I also had the right as director to decide what was in or out."

Bergman remembers the room being just as chaotic, telling Creative Screenwriting,

"In the beginning, we had five people. One guy left after a couple of weeks. Then, it was basically me, Mel, Richie Pryor and Norman Steinberg. Richie left after the first draft and then Norman, Mel and I wrote the next three or four drafts. It was a riot. It was a rioter’s room!"

For casting, Brooks had originally planned to give the lead role to Richard Pryor, but his history with drug arrests made the studio claim he was uninsurable, so they refused to green light his casting. Instead, the role of Sheriff Bart went to Cleavon Little. Brooks offered the part of the Waco Kid to John Wayne, but Wayne turned it down, stating that it went against his wholesome reputation, though he promised Mel he'd be first in line to see the picture. Gig Young was ultimately cast to play the Kid, but collapsed on the set the first day of shooting from alcohol withdrawal syndrome, so the last minute scramble to replace him lead to Gene Wilder, who had been offered the role of Hedley Lamarr, but turned it down, along with Johnny Carson. Carol Burnet Show cast regular, Harvey Korman eventually landed the Lamarr role. Madeline Kahn objected when Brooks asked to see her legs during her audition. "She said, 'So it's THAT kind of an audition?'" Brooks recalled. "I explained that I was a happily married man and that I needed someone who could straddle a chair with her legs like Marlene Dietrich in Destry Rides Again. So she lifted her skirt and said, 'No touching.'"

An interesting side note to the character of Hedly Lamarr, with the name being an obvious parody of the name of actress Heady Lamarr, the film production was sued by the actress for $100,000 for "infringing her right to privacy". Clearly she just didn't get the joke, but the studio still went and settled with her out of court for an undisclosed sum and an apology. This lawsuit would be referenced by an in-film joke where Brooks' character, the Governor, tells Lamarr that "This is 1874; you'll be able to sue HER."

During production, Brooks ended up having numerous battles with the studio over content in the film, with the studio constantly pushing back on things like the repeated use of the "N" word and the aforementioned scene with Kahn. Other scenes that stirred up battles included the flatulent campfire beans dinner and the horse punching. But Brooks had final say in his contract, so he stood firm on nearly all of his creative choices, with the exception of cutting Bart's final line during Lili's seduction: "I hate to disappoint you, ma'am, but you're sucking my arm." When questioned about the use of the N-word, Brooks defended himself by citing that he worked closely with both Richard Prior and Cleavon Little on these lines and they were both insistent on the necessity to use that language, though the film still received letters of complaint upon its release. Brooks added in a 2012 interview: "If they did a remake of Blazing Saddles today, they would leave out the N-word. And then, you've got no movie."

Once completed, the film nearly fell into oblivion as the studio considered dumping it and writing it off as a tax loss, in an ironic shade of Brooks own prior work The Producers. At a test screening for the studio executives, the audience was dour and there were few laughs to be heard. The head of distribution suggested binning it and dealing with the loss, but then Warner Bros president, John Calley, insisted on releasing it in New York, Los Angeles and Chicago as a test. The world premiere took place on February 7, 1974, at the Pickwick Drive-In Theater in Burbank for 250 invited guests, including Little and Wilder, who watched the film on horseback. Once it was given wide release, it became the studio's top moneymaker that summer.

I was just 11 years old when my parents took my brother and I to see it in the theatre. I remember it vividly, because I'd never laughed so hard or so much in a movie in my entire life. I'd never seen anything like it, and the jokes just kept coming and coming, in an unstoppable barrage. It was absolutely relentless and I completely loved every minute of it. That feeling was shared by many millions of others, though the critics, typically, were somewhat divided in their appraisal. Some found it too scattershot in its attempts to pack in too many gags too densely into the movie's run-time. But others understood the approach and appreciated the balls it took to load a movie up with that much comic ammunition. Roger Ebert gave the film four stars out of four, calling it a "crazed grab bag of a movie that does everything to keep us laughing except hit us over the head with a rubber chicken. Mostly, it succeeds. It's an audience picture; it doesn't have a lot of classy polish and its structure is a total mess. But of course! What does that matter while Alex Karras is knocking a horse cold with a right cross to the jaw?" Gene Siskel awarded three stars out of four and called it "bound to rank with the funniest of the year," adding, "Whenever the laughs begin to run dry, Brooks and his quartet of gag writers splash about in a pool of obscenities that score belly laughs if your ears aren't sensitive and if you're hip to western movie conventions being parodied.

The film has gone on to be recognized as a critical contribution to American cinema, being added to the Library of Congress National Film Registry in 2006. Given the consistency of racial turmoil that continues to plague North America, it hasn't lost any of its cultural relevancy, though it's perhaps fallen behind the times in terms of certain attitudes towards sexuality. Still, it retains its edge, with many wondering if anything like it could be made in the 21st century. It seems to be able to explore racial boundaries in a way that other creative properties can't, maintaining a kind of humour that is distinctive and unrepeatable.

ZARDOZ @ 50

Celebrating its 50th anniversary today is the science fiction feature film classic, Zardoz, which was theatrically released on February 6th, 1974. Written, produced, and directed by John Boorman and starring Sean Connery and Charlotte Rampling, it's a dystopian vision of social engineering and privilege stratification taken to an extreme, where an immortal elite rule over tribes of savage brutes, denied a place at the table of plenty.

With John Boorman hot off the massive success of his last film, Deliverance, he was in a position to be somewhat self-indulgent with his next major project. Initially, he'd planned to attempt an adaptation of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings for United Artists, but that project didn't get too far into development before the studio sussed that the budget required to bring such an expansive work to the screen would need to be astronomical. That was enough for them to pull the plug, but Boorman was still of a mind that he wanted to create something set in a fantastical imaginary world, so he started developing his own story ideas.

Deciding he'd work within the science fiction genre, he determined that he wasn't interested in the usual "outer-space" tropes, but rather, he wanted to explore "inner-space" and the concepts around the premise of a far future civilization advancing too quickly for human intellectual and emotional sophistication to keep pace. He was looking to explore the social dissonance such a dynamic could create via the lens of extreme stratification. It was metaphysically ambitious territory, but also a landscape that would inevitably result in the film's creator overstepping his vision, pushing his narrative into the realms of pretension.

After developing the script, the project was first presented to Warner Bros, who immediately turned it down, but Twentieth Century Fox had been courting Boorman and were keen for a chance to work with him, so his agent used that disposition as leverage to strong-arm their representative into a "love it or leave it" deal, presenting him with the script and a couple of hours to read it, with the provision that he'd have to offer a deal on the spot or they'd walk. The exec emerged from reading the script looking bemused and lost, but reluctantly agreed Fox would bankroll the film.

Casting of the lead character of Zed had started out as a role tailor-made to suit the man who'd made Deliverance so memorable, with Burt Reynolds being offered the part, but he was unable to accept due to illness at the time, so an alternate had to be found. Sean Connery was coming off a run of highly successful James Bond films, but his departure from the franchise had left him typecast and unable to secure any major roles in its wake, so Boorman & Connery felt that this was a perfect opportunity to redefine Connery's screen presence, so he was signed on to the project.

Shooting of the film took place entirely on location in the Republic of Ireland, which while offering plenty of exceptional scenery, also offered a few cultural challenges. The region's religious conservatism meant that shooting nudity was often problematic, with female extras from the area reluctant to be seen topless. There were also bans on importing of firearms because of the IRA troubles, which threatened to shut down production as there were numerous requirements for weapons to be used in various scenes. Yet these issues were ultimately overcome and the film was shot between May and August of 1973.

A group of County Wicklow artisans were hired to create many of the film's futuristic costumes, which were designed by Boorman's first wife, Christel Kruse. She decided that, because the "Eternals'" lives were purely metaphysical and colourless, this should be incorporated into their costumes. As The "Brutals" were lower, more primitive beings, Christel decided that they would not care much about what they were wearing, only what was functional and comfortable. As stated in the magazine Dark Worlds Quarterly "functional" and "comfortable" costumes ended up meaning that the costumes were extremely revealing, "It is the costumes for the Brutal Exterminators, and Zed in particular, that raise the eyebrows, with thigh-high leather boots, crossed bandoleers and shorts that can only be described as 'skimpy', the Brutals, and Connery in particular, exude raw masculinity, particularly as they ride their steeds and fire their guns."

Upon its release, the film immediately suffered a tide of highly negative reviews, with critics nearly unanimous in their condemnation of its overly ambitious story and awkward dialogue. Nora Sayre of The New York Times wrote Zardoz "is science fiction that rarely succeeds in fulfilling its ambitious promises... Despite its pseudo-scientific gimmicks and a plethora of didactic dialogue, Zardoz is more confusing than exciting, even with a frenetic, shoot-em-up climax". Yet Roger Ebert of the Chicago Sun-Times gave it two-and-a-half stars out of four and called it a "genuinely quirky movie, a trip into a future that seems ruled by perpetually stoned set decorators... The movie is an exercise in self-indulgence (if often an interesting one) by Boorman, who more or less had carte blanche to do a personal project after his immensely successful Deliverance". On the other hand, Gene Siskel of the Chicago Tribune gave it one star out of four and called it "a message movie all right, and the message is that social commentary in the cinema is best restrained inside of a carefully-crafted story, not trumpeted with character labels, special effects, and a dose of despair that celebrates the director's humanity while chastising the profligacy of the audience".

Audiences were just as savage against it during its theatrical run, with patrons from early shows actively warning those waiting outside for the next showing to flee from the theatre. It quickly dropped in box office receipts, leaving empty seats wherever it played, until it was quickly pulled from the screens, barely earning enough to cover its production costs. After the success of Deliverance, this was a shocking downturn for Boorman. Yet his efforts would eventually win him a cult following in later years.

As the home video and later DVD markets exploded, Zardoz would become recognized as one of the 1970s most bizarre and distinctive science fiction entries. Before the demarcation created by the release of Star Wars, with its attendant focus on superficial moralizing, action and spaceships, Zardoz was a quintessential example of the decade's penchant for deeply analytical extrapolations of humanity's future. It was a thought experiment, asking the audience to question the nature of mortality and our desire to circumvent its inevitability. It posed the question of what an eternal youth culture would do with itself when its constraints were effectively eliminated. Its answer was the depiction of a hedonistic, decadent, emotionally short-circuited society, lacking any sense of empathy or comprehension of the suffering happening outside its entitled bubble. Actually, not a bad prediction of the culture of today's mega-wealthy. It also presciently explored the concept of a society managed by an artificial intelligence and how that entity could distort and mutate a civilization's value systems.

Yet within its ambitions, there is also the reality that it was, inescapably, a failure on many levels, which make it a prime candidate for those looking to scratch the "so bad it's good" itch. Its grasp wholeheartedly exceeded its reach, with the results being often strained and pompous as it attempted to out intellectualize itself, like some awkward interpretive dancer. But that becomes part of its charm because there's a certain amount of credit that must be given to Boorman for having the courage to attempt the film in the first place. It's an admiration that can be given to a creator willing to push their work that far and risk such a spectacular face-plant after achieving so much success with their previous work. Needless to say, Zardoz wasn't the end of Boorman's career by any means, though it is certainly one of his most notable flops.

My personal experience with the movie goes back to seeing it on TV a couple of years after its theatrical release. I must admit that the sight of burly-bear Sean Connery, who was looking decidedly husker than in his Bond prime, bounding about the screen for most of the movie in little more than a tiny red loincloth, was not at all an unwelcome image for an adolescent gay boy like myself. My "spank bank" owes a double debt to Boorman, not only for this movie, but also for Ned Beaty in Deliverance. I am eternally grateful for both! But even at my young age, I could appreciate the ludicrous aspects of this, albeit also its higher aspirations. There are great, iconic moments here, intertwined with just as many scenes of the ludicrous, like some sort of overwrought performance art. For every face-palm you get something brilliant and thought provoking. All in, what's not to love, from the profound to the absurd? I've seen it many times since then and it never fails to entertain, on a variety of levels. It's most definitely a must-see for any fan of '70s science fiction, right up along side the likes of Logan's Run, Phase IV, Demon Seed, The Andromeda Strain and innumerable others that define the era's sense of introspection.

MC5 - KICK OUT THE JAMS @ 55

 

Celebrating its 55th anniversary this month is the debut LP from the notorious MC5, with Kick Out the Jams being released in February of 1969. With its revolutionary stance and biting raw edge, it became a crucial foundation stone for what would become "punk rock" within a few years.

The roots of the band go back to their initial founding in 1963, which grew out of a childhood friendship between guitarists Wayne Kramer and Fred "Sonic" Smith. As well as being aficionados of the blues, Chuck Berry, Dick Dale and The Ventures, the pair were also enraptured by the cutting edge frenzy of free-jazz, with its wild flights of dissonance being incorporated into the their soloing styles. The group's name is an abbreviation of the term "Motor City Five", a reference to their hometown stomping ground, Detroit, MI. They'd play there almost every night, at any venue they could get a booking.

The group's high energy style quickly earned them a lot of recognition as they began to tour around the US, often upstaging the established acts they opened for. Fans would demand encores before allowing the headliners to take the stage. A trio of singles released throughout 1968 further bolstered the band's popularity, while their hard-left politics raised eyebrows and stoked paranoia about the radical nature of the band and its followers. A fanatical, reverential cover story in Rolling Stone cemented their position as emerging messiahs of Rock 'n' Roll.

Through their activities, MC5 would become mentors to fellow Detroit bands like The Stooges, while the band were, in-turn, being politically influenced by the Marxism of the Black Panther Party and Fred Hampton, and poets of the Beat Generation such as Allen Ginsberg and Ed Sanders, or Modernist poets like Charles Olson. Black Panther Party founder Huey P. Newton prompted the band's "manager", John Sinclair, to found the White Panthers, a militant leftist organization of white people working to assist the Black Panthers.

The band began to perform at various protest rallies, especially in opposition to the Vietnam war, appearing most notoriously at an event against the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago, which ended in a police riot. The event is also notable for the duration of the MC5 performance, which went on for an astonishing 8 hours! At the height of this publicity and mayhem, MC5 recorded their debut album, Kick Out the Jams, live, on October 30 & 31, 1968, at Detroit's Grande Ballroom. With the band performing at their best in front of a rabidly receptive audience, the decision to release a live album as their debut was an easy one. Culling the best from the two nights, what ended up on vinyl was nothing short of sheer, ferocious genius.

With the album bursting out of the speakers with the declaration, "KICK OUT THE JAMS, MOTHERFUCKERS!", it was inevitable that controversy would flare up in its wake. An alternate rallying cry of "Kick out the jams, brothers and sisters" was used on the single release of the title track, and also some versions of the album after retailer, Hudson's, refused to sell the album with its original expletive spiked incitement. This substitution was bitterly objected to by the band and their management, who fought tooth and nail to have it preserved. The title was a phrase that had originated while the band were touring and working with a variety of bands who were noted for their languid, extended improvisational performances, with MC5 blasting the stage free of the self-indulgent hippy jamming, in favour of their high octane garage rock. The phrase was somewhat appropriated 20 years later by the Justified Ancients of Mu Mu, aka, The JAMs / KLF for somewhat more esoteric purposes.

The album sold well upon its release, quickly cracking over 100,000 units and peaking at #30 on the Billboard charts, though there was some critical lack of consensus. Yet the legacy of the album has helped it retain its status as a constant reference point when musicologists attempt to trace the roots of the punk and alternative rock movements that evolved in the ensuing decades. Most of those roads invariably lead back to the MC5, alongside a small cadre of other foundational bands like the Velvet Underground. Essentially, anyone who takes proper, soul satisfying rock 'n' roll music seriously has this record in their collection, likely right next to the first New York Dolls and Stooges LPs.