The Kids Are Alright

One of the most stunning recordings I think I have ever heard is a live version of The Who's "Magic Bus", from the Live at Leeds album. The 1970 show captured for that album is a piece of history you're happy to hear preserved. It is one of the few live recordings where the energy, the aura shines through. Most live pieces are substandard aural sludge, well mixed or otherwise. There is simply nothing like being there. I wasn't at Leeds, but hearing it today makes me feel (and wish) that I was. A band as engergetic and seminal as The Who deserve not one iota less, ya rotter.

The 1979 documentary THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT is likewise a highly worthy keepsake of some great Who moments. We see the salad days performances of early gems such as "Happy Jack" and full force latter day rips through "Won't Get Fooled Again". If you know your Who trivia/cliches, you'll expect to see certain things:

1. Pete Townshend energetically hitting the strings with a windmill arm. Check.
2. Roger Daltrey swinging the microphone cord. Check.
3. Townshend trashing his guitar with thunderous violence. Check.
4. Drummer Keith Moon mugging quite entertainingly through interviews. Check.

These moments are culled from a wide variety of sources, including some riotous clips from The Smothers Brothers Hour. That performance remains infamous for an incident that should send shivers up and down the spine of any concerned audiologist-Moon instructed the crew to load his kick drum with flash powder for a dramatic explosion at the climax of "My Generation." It worked all too well. The ignition was so intense that each band member sustained injury, and it was also rumored that backstage, Bette Davis fainted into Mickey Rooney's arms. Townshend would cite this incident as the genesis of his hearing loss and wicked case of tinnitus. The following years of extremely loud gigs (sans hearing protection) only exacerbated things. Townshend is now a spokesperson for hearing loss. "Hope I die before I get old"? Hmmmm...

THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT provides ample document to this idea that the Who embodies the rebellion and restlessness of rock music. In other words, the movie's an off the chart success. It manages to give us snapshots in time of the various facets of this band. They were, by turns, Mods, rock operasmiths, R & B mavens. They composed epic anthems and elaborate operas like Tommy and Quadrophenia. For the former, they allowed eccentric British director Ken Russell to create an outrageous film adaptation that still stuns me to this day (can't stop thinking about Ann Magaret swimming in those beans or Jack Nicholson, gasp, singing). You couldn't pidgeonhole this quartet.

A Who concert was (apparently) a raucous, possibly transcendent event. Sometimes, things turned tragic, as a year after this doc, concertgoers perished during a chaotic stampede. This film doesn't exactly ignore the darker side of rock 'n' roll, but still favors the more positive spirit. Interviews with each band member (and collectively) reveal cheerful dispositions and even merriment. These guys loved the job. Director Jeff Stein expertly assembles moments of inspired improvisation, on and offstage. Mostly through television clips and some staged stuff. They seem genuine. Even the stoic bassist, John Entwistle, is smiling.

Was there infighting? Of course. When you combine wildly different personalities like these, drum kits aren't they only explosive elements. Townshend was the band brainchild who composed the chords and the lyrics over which lead singer/Adonis Roger Daltrey screamed. There was also screaming backstage, but Stein doesn't distract us with such dirt. And what about Keith Moon? A wild child, lived the rock 'n' roll lifestyle to the hilt. You know, the trashed hotel rooms, intoxicants, the bragging to the press that he was a millionaire, that sort of thing. But as they say, "the candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long". In 1978, Moon died a few months after this film's climactic concert sequence was shot.

This movie does not play like a sleazy tabloid article from the Sun, but rather a breathless cabaret, like an endorphin rush you get when you play your favorite song at top volume. I was unable to keep still while watching this movie. THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT is not a straight concert doc, or a tiresome avant garde oddity (see: Zappa's 200 MOTELS or BABY SNAKES, or Zeppelin's THE SONG REMAINS THE SAME). We learn all we need to through the assualtive collage we're presented. It's like all the "good parts" edited together in one long fast moving train. This is undiluted cinematic exhiliration, a chance to crank your system and see if you truly can piss off your neighbors. I'm waiting for a local revival. I'll bring professional grade earplugs.

Comments

Popular Posts