For you robust record heads, here's a new tip: cancel your Thirty Rock, Harry Potter, or 1960's black and white foreign film orders on your Netflix account and start ordering some rock-umentaries. This is my new kick. From The Who to Sonic Youth, there are some really nosy and bizarre music documentaries out there.
I was hanging out with a fellow music collaborator the other day, and he insisted I watch some clips from his favorite Jimi Hendrix documentary. I kind of thought this was pointless. But I'm young, so I did it. Equally as stimulating as the documentary's live concert footage, were the slices of interviews with Jimi's friends, lady lovers, and scenesters. I've always had an artisitic repesct for Jimi Hendrix, but I think I failed to comprehend the gravity of his art. Watching the documentary helped me understand the movement and ideology that fueled the rock n' roll of that era.
There was one scene in the movie where Jimi was sitting cross-legged on an ornate tapestry in an unfinished building with a couple of hippies. They were clearly light-years removed from earth on some Laser Spiked Drippage. Jimi was endlessly musing about rainbows and utopia while smoke from incense wafted up around them. The scene lasted far too long. This was comforting. . .
(Selah)
In an era when then line between musical artist and commercial noise commodity is often dazed, I'm one of many artists trying to find my place in this crippled continuum. Who even knows what a true artist looks like? I guess somewhere in the choleric confusion, rockumentaries have helped me find the plot again. Watching Thurston Moore, Pete Townsend, and Daniel Johnston talk about the music they live and die for, I'm learning what it looks like to be an artist. I think I'm too young to be this disillusioned, but nonetheless I'm glad the musical beacons of previous eras have left a legacy for kids like me. I'll leave you with clip from a cult-classic artist, Benjamin Smoke. He was an early 90's post-hippie freak-folk musician from Cabbagetown. Enjoy,
Gabe
