Because it’s been awhile since our last column, let’s immediately go to catch-up mode. There’s been a number of new and noteworthy DVD releases lately, but that’s hardly breaking news. What’s especially significant is the continuation of several new series, begun last year and gaining momentum in the first few months of 2006. One of the most notable is the Under Review enterprise, DVD offerings that combine rare archival footage with critical commentary. On the surface, this may sound like dry academia – after all, what could be more boring than a bunch of talking heads, primarily U.K. music critics, discussing an artist’s attributes and history in dry detail. However, on two recent entries – titles devoted to Queen and Pink Floyd founder and legendary lunatic, Syd Barrett -- this assumption couldn’t be further from reality. Each volume provides a generous amount of performance and promotional video that gives intriguing insights into their careers and personal progression. While both sets are fascinating, the disc devoted to Barrett may be of most interest to more scholarly types, if for no other reason than footage of the early Floyd is rarely seen. Knowing that Barrett would eventually self-destruct makes this a fascinating probe, particularly when the discussion turns to his solo efforts post Pink Floyd and his slow descent into madness and isolation.
The Queen DVD, which spotlights the group in their prime from 1973 – 1980, will likely attract interest in light of the group’s reformation and current tour in the company of Paul Rogers. While Rogers is reportedly doing an admirable job at the helm of the band, the concert footage of Freddie Mercury, arguably one of Rock’s greatest showmen, makes the point that no one, no matter how great their prowess, could ever replace his pomp and presence. In fact, at least two of the critics interviewed make the point that were it not for the flamboyant Mercury, Queen would never have achieved its colossal fame. Ultimately, leaves the viewer with a sense of profound sadness in the realization that this immeasurable talent was taken away far too soon.
New West’s Live From Austin TX series recently added several new offerings to what has become one of the most eagerly anticipated concert series in recent times. Focusing on previously unreleased performances taped for the award-winning Austin City Limits program, it offers a wide array of artists of artists who could be loosely categorized as Americana, but are in fact, widely diverse. The latest batch includes showings from Dwight Yoakam, Texas Tornados, Eric Johnson, John Hiatt and the late Johnny Cash. Considering the runaway success of Walk The Line, the Cash concert, recorded in January 1987, is especially view-worthy, providing a glimpse of the legendary artist who inspired the biopic. Ultimately, it’s the songs that stand out, and Cash’s entry is filled with classic tracks (“I Walk The Line� “Ring Of Fire� “Folsom Prison Blues� “Big River�) from beginning to end, each performed in his indelible signature style.
Other concert entries of note include Dusty Springfield Live At The Royal Albert Hall, which captures a concert performed at London’ Royal Albert Hall in 1979. Springfield died in 1999, but twenty years earlier she was on the cusp of a magnificent comeback that reintroduced her music to an appreciative audience. The performance includes most of her hits, although relegating her biggest – “I Only Want To Be With You,� “Wishin’ And Hopin�, “I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself� – to a hurried medley seems like an unfortunate shortcut, especially since her covers – “This Will Be� and “We Are Family� are unnecessary additions. Still, Dusty’s self-effacing humor and obvious affection for her fans show through and make this a delightful last look at one of pop’s preeminent divas.
Speaking of divas, the legendary Marc Bolan gets the spotlight in Born To Boogie, the 1972 feature documentary directed by Ringo Starr and recently re-released by Sanctuary. Most of the movie is clearly dated, but the clips featuring Bolan and Starr are especially amusing, particularly given the historical context. However, it’s the concert footage that’s particularly striking, given that Bolan was such a mesmerizing performer. Watching him in the film’s concert sequences and in the bonus footage culled from a ’72 concert foreshadows the look and sound of bands -- the White Stripes being one in particular -- that would descend from the Bolan ranks thirty years later. At five and a half hours in length, this new edition of Born To Boogie is a must, and nothing less than a true musical milestone.
Like Bolan, Todd Rundgren has become known as one of Rock’s leading eccentrics and all it takes is a look at his new concert disc, Liars Live, to bear that out. Culled mainly from Rundgren’s recent Liars album -- with a smattering of Todd standards (“Hello It’s Me�, “Just One Victory�) as well as a superb cover of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps� -- it’s an accurate representation of Rundgren’s live show, complete with its extravagant sets, bizarre costumes and striking personas. Granted, Rundgren’s over-the-top theatrics may not appeal to all, especially those who are looking for ways to relate. Still, Rundgren is a one-of-a-kind artist, and Liars Live is an intriguing, if somewhat unorthodox, attempt.
The latest in an endless parade of offerings devoted to John, Paul, George and Ringo, The Beatles: From Liverpool To San Francisco provides yet another well-trod history of the Fab Four. It boasts a standard, no-frills commentary, accompanying the usual abundance of black and white video, all stirred up with ample doses of nostalgia. While this is by no means another Anthology, it does include some footage that’s been rarely seen elsewhere, including several clips of Jimmy Nicol, the drummer that filled in when Ringo was waylaid by illness. Ultimately, From Liverpool To San Francisco offers little in the way of new information or insights, at least as far as anyone already familiar with the group’s story is concerned. Notably too, no actual Beatles music or clips from their films are included, presumably due to copyright restraints. Sadly, the most telling portion of the documentary comes when the individual Beatles are asked if the end of touring means the band may break up. All four insist that while they may go their separate ways, they’ll always regroup and work together. Given the ultimate outcome of the Fab Four story, any retelling brings a bittersweet postscript, one for which this disc can provide no exception.
