Page 29 - the NOISE August 2012

“Let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to unemployment insurance and library cards, to absinthe
and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives ... and to the “good life”, whatever it is and wherever it happens to be.”
— Hunter S. Thompson
The Proud Highway: Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman
REVIEW’D
George Harrison: Living in the Material World
Martin Scorsese
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Living In The Material World is Martin Scorsese’s exploration of the life of George Harrison. The interview subjects show the diversity of the quiet Beatle’s interests: the Monty Pythons, Ravi Shankar, the Hare Krishnas, zen racecar pro Jackie Stewart, Paul and Ringo, Eric Clapton, Tom Petty, The Beatles’ German pal As- trid Kircherr, various session musicians, a particularly intense Phil Spector, ex-wives Patti and Olivia, son Dhani, and George him- self. Scorsese deftly blends the words of this strange and motley bunch with plenty of George’s glorious music into a satisfying and entertaining experience. The film’s 3 1/2 hours fly right by.
Harrison was a complex man, and Living In The Material World reflects this. It really is a warts-and-all profile. For every incident of Harrison’s saintliness and generosity, there is another of his opinionated stubbornness. In fact, this may be the least flatter- ing of Scorsese’s rock and roll portraits, and that’s saying a lot. Harrison comes off a bigger assh*le than Mick Jagger or Bob Dylan (strong company indeed) but perhaps not as big as Rob- bie Robertson; for all of George’s failings, he was never preten- tious. Sh*t, the guy played the ukulele. In public, even. When Scorsese did No Direction Home he paints Dylan as the genius so ahead of his time that he has no choice but to go into seclusion via motorcycle accident. Like with that film, Scorsese has to se- lect and he has to choose. He’s only got so much time. Scorsese focuses on the man’s work.
The Beatles are still together when the first part ends. The flaw here is McCartney comes off as sympathetic, or at least as something other than a cheeseball tool and Lennon can’t speak for himself. Ringo is great. The beauty is how in depth Scorsese bothers to get, particularly with Harrisons’s Beatles tracks.
The Beatles do break up though and I recall seeing Concert for Bangladesh, Harrison’s first post-Beatles performance for the fist time and thinking about skipping the Ravi Shankar part, but end- ing up enraptured in it. Ravi Shankar is given some good screen time, though exactly what Harrison saw in Indian religions will probably always remain a mystery.
And then there’s Harrison’s final masterpiece: producing Mon- ty Python’s Life of Brian. Harrison gave the Pythons two million pounds for Life Of Brian, when the original producers read the script and refused to fund it, simply because he wanted to watch the end result. As Terry Gilliam states, “If you can offend Catholics, Evalengelicals and Jews, you’re doing something right.”
The major flaw of the film is that after All Things Must Pass the rest seems like epilogue, one big long comedown. Where do you go from the sexiest record about God of all time? Among the many highlights of Harrison’s 1970 magnum opus is “Wah Wah,” a melodic rocker with a killer riff that benefits greatly from Phil Spector’s densely layered production. What was Harrion’s reac-
tion upon hearing the finished track? “I hate it. It’s just so horrible.”
For all the (well-deserved) hype surrounding All Things Must Pass, the album sadly remains Harrison’s creative high point. The remainder of his recording life consists of a handful of decent tracks scattered throughout increasingly dull and uninspired LPs, save for the late-career boost of 1987’s Cloud Nine.
The point is obvious. The majority of All Things Must Pass con- sists of songs backlogged from Harrison’s time with the Beatles. Once that band broke up, his inspiration fizzled. Listen to the 1973 follow up LP Living In The Material World (and every album after) for proof. He just gave up trying.
The love triangle between George, his wife Patti, and Eric Clapton is well-known rock lore. George’s cavalier attitude is ex- pressed in a 1974 press conference, shortly after his wife finally left him for Clapton: “I love Eric ... I’m very happy about it.”
“How could you be happy about that?” asks an incredulous re- porter.
“Because he’s great. I’d rather she was with him than some dope.”
Less cavalier is the 1974 album Dark Horse, which contains sev- eral heartbreak songs with an ugly and nasty vibe, specifically a dismal cover of the Everly Brothers’ sprightly “Bye Bye Love.” George rewrites the lyrics and lets his bitterness spill out:
There goes our lady/With a you-know-who/ I hope she’s happy/ And old Clapper too ... We had good rhythm/And a little slide/Then she stepped in/Did me a favour/I threw them both out/We see that our lady/Is out on a spree.
Patti Harrison and Eric Clapton both appear on the track.
The last hour of the film’s subjects include: Spirituality, dope, movies, Ravi Shankar, gardening, and of course, John Lennon has to die. This viewer was hoping for an alternate plot development. And where are the Wilburys? Well, that’s three hours in. Epic. The Wilbury footage is great because the viewer sees how these guys put on their pants one leg at a time and write hits the same way everyone else does. Like dorks.
Beatles nerds will not get any new revelations, but the viewer gets the narrative with Scorsese’s masterful touch for storytell- ing and character. And unknown music legends, Jim Keltner and Klaus Vormann get a lot of screen time. Scorsese deserves credit for choosing yet another ripe subject and maintaining the focus.
Olivia Arias Harrison is the closest thing in Scorsese’s movie to a true saint. For a woman in her 60s, she appears remarkably clear-headed, poised and sensual. She is full of understanding and patience with her husband’s idiosyncrasies, including his dalliances with other women. In 1999, when George was at- tacked in his home, it was Olivia who subdued the intruder with a fireplace poker and a lamp (Tom Petty sent a telegram: “Aren’t you glad you married a Mexican girl?”). She stayed with George until his death in 2001. When asked for her advice on how to keep a marriage together, she replies simply, “Don’t get divorced.”
Near the end of Living In The Material World, sandwiched be- tween two loving anecdotes from Olivia on George’s final days,
George Harrison; Hive Dwellers.
is this Harrison quote: “Now, if I was dying now ... what would I ... think? What would I miss? If I had to leave my body, you know, in an hour’s time, what is it that I would miss? And I think ... well, I’ve got a son who needs a father, so I have to stick around for him as long as I can, but um ... other than that, I can’t think of much reason to be here [laughs].”
The omission is staring us right in the face. There’s a reason Scorsese places the quote where it is. These are George Harri- son’s last words in the film.
(A fine companion volume to Living In The Material World is The Concert For George, which documents a tribute performance from 2002, exactly one year to the day of George’s passing. The concert is surprisingly good, mostly due to the crackerjack back- up band of unknowns, specifically drummer Henry Spinetti and the mysterious Marc Mann, who mimics Harrison’s slide guitar leads note for note. The heavy hitters include Eric Clapton, Jeff Lynne, Tom Petty, Ravi Shankar, Billy Preston, Dhani Harrison, Ringo Starr and Paul McCartney. The Monty Pythons nearly steal the show. After a long set of Indian music, the Pythons deliver rousing performances of “The Lumberjack Song” and “Sit On My Face.” They take a bow and then turn around, revealing their bare backsides. The Pythons take another bow, thus mooning the sold out crowd at the Royal Albert Hall. With a big picture of George Harrison above their heads.)
Tom Dowd’s doc The Language of Music (which coincidentally deconstructs the creation of Clapton’s “Layla”) is the film that comes closest to exploring the musical process in a way that the layperson can understand. Scorsese has created another master- piece. — Frank Chipotel & Tony BallZ
Hive Dwellers
Hewn From the Wilderness
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If one mentions the band, Beat Happening, there are three possible responses: hyperbolic but sincere love, absolute hate, or unfamiliarity.
If one mentions Calvin Johnson, one will very likely get the same response. I’ve heard a few really good Calvin Johnson sto- ries from reliable sources. They won’t be printed here.
Hive Dwellers is Calvin Johnson’s new project.
Here is a guy that’s been putting out records himself for com- ing on twenty-five years. Johnson keeps getting older and his fans stay the same age. And, boy howdy, are they cute.
Hewn could be a Beat Happening album. It could be their comeback after what their fans complained was their “overly- produced” last album. The centerpiece here is the five and a half minute (a virtual epic for an indy rock band) “Get In.” The track reminds me of Le Tigre’s outstanding first album immediately. Paraphrased: You are a freak, but what you are feeling is okay. Join our army. Join our club. You’re all right. And it’s actually the
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