ROCK VIDIOCY ROLL AWAY THE STONES

ROCK VIDIOCY ROLL AWAY THE STONES

FEATURES

DAVE DIMARTINO

It's natural that the first bands to make the transition to video would be rock's biggest. There's that name recognition factor, the built-in audience bands like Fleetwood Mac or ABBA command, that makes such forays potentially more lucrative and less of a risk—and then there's always that plush financial cushion to fall back on, in case of a flop.

Unfortunately, "bigness" these days implies crass commerciality and all that goes with it. And almost to the mark, every feature length rock video has been boring, due to the unrelenting overexposure of its subject matter.

Take the Rolling Stones and the Who. Can you really name two bigger bands at the moment? Probably not, and actually, that's part of the problem: they've been hyped to death so many different ways for the past two years, how could you not think of them? First there were press conferences, announcing fours. Then there were announcements of the itineraries. Then, ticket sales. Then reports of the "record breaking" ticket sales. Announcements of sponsorships by Jovan and Schlitz. Newsstand magazines, quickie books about the bands. Then the actual concerts themselves, every one superb, not a turkey in the bunch, "entirely professional showmen" the papers blared. Then came tnose pay-TV broadcasts at tour-end, a final way of sharing the bands' music with the public, a mere 20 bucks a crack or so. And maybe even a new live Stones album.

But of course that wasn't the end. First came the Stones Tour movie—Hal Ashby's let's Spend The Night Together, which must've lasted all of two weeks at the theatres, due to an audience finally grossed-out by it all or else just home watching MTV, for free. And now come ihe videocassettes, Ashby's film (Embassy cassette, $59.95) and The Who Rocks America/) 982 American Tour (CBS/Fox cassette, $39.98). The merchandising, as they say, is complete. Now somebody just has to buy it all.

I don't Know about you, but I can't buy one more reminder of how far the Rolling Stones have fallen from grace, let alone the Who. I had a tough enough time convincing myself io bother seeing the Stones in the first place; it might be the last time," ! told myself, just like I'd told myself in 1969 and almost every year they've come since. You'd think 1 would've gotten the picture: it's never the last time with the Rolling Stones, and while I respect their ability to crank it out professionally, I sure as hell don't find myself enjoying it, and I haven't for years.

LSTNT is a concise, welledited examination of a tour that was over/y examined, and on that level it's certainly a success. Unfortunately, it reveals little else about the band— excepl thal in the '80$, Mick Jagger says he's got a woman under his thumb instead of a girl. And he's so used to playing stadiums (and stadiums only) that any hint of menace or scowling sexuality is so exaggerated, to reach those folks in the back row, that up closearid that's where Ashby's film brings you—he looks like a grotesque, pathetic little clown.

The tease comes with "Time Is On My Side," in which Ashby inserts clippings from The frd Sul/ivon Show and other periods of the band's career, including tantalyzingly brief, color footaqe of Brian Jones. One can't fault Ashby here— his goal, after all, was to document the '81 tour, not to make The Comp/eat Rol/ing Stones— but those brief clips alone get the point across that, corny as it sounds, what once was is no more and there’s no point in trying to bring it back. Which is wny I'd rather see the Stones performing "Time Is On My Side," "Satisfaction" and "Jumping Jack Flash" back when they were originally written, in their '60s contexts, or else not see them at all. That the high points of LSTNT come when the band plays its most recent songs—"Start Me Up," "Hang Fire" and even "Miss You"—makes that point, and should be enough to make them give up the ghost.

Which is exactly what the Who purported to do with their 1982 American Tour, but talk about weak-kneed fencestraddling: "we...may...never tour...like this...ever again," they announced to acute nonhysteria and, in some sectors, knowing yawns. Even the back of the videocassette box plays the game: "this is the last concert of The Who's phenomenal North American Tour, and as the group says, the end of their touring career...Everyone who has ever loved rock music will hope sincerely that this is not the last opportunity to see the spectacular and volatile Who, but /usf in case, the essence of this all-time great band..." blah, blah, blah. I added the italics, but you get the picture. Guess it’d look pretty stupid in

1986 to file the / 985 Lost Concert Tour Ever, Guys, Honest videocassette next to the one that proclaims they'll never ever do it again, they swear.

Frankly, I had more fun watching the Who cassette than Ashby's film. It might be because I simply couldn'i manage the energy to see the band in concert last year; the new album reeked, and the bad toste of the Stones Supersei! debacle lingered. Unlike LSTNT, The Who Rocks America presents one show and one show only, thus blunders or pacing errors couldn't be snipped out or smoothed over guile so easily. In a way, it's the better document—watching it i felt as if I was there, but with one added advantage: I could turn off the TV when 1 wanted to.

While Daltrey shares few similarities with Jagger, both vocalists are "showmen” who are difficult to read emotionally; they could just as easily be thinking about going to the bathroom as the profundity of the words they sing—I doubt it would show either way. "Hangdog" Pete Townshend is another story, though—the look of sheepishness on nis face when the entire Toronto audience sings the words "teenage wasteland" louder than his band does is priceless. Pete always had an eye for irony.

But the real story comes with "Boris The Spider"—while John Entwistle sings his most famous song ("It only took me eight minutes to write" his excuse before singing), Townshend, who sings the backing "creepy, crawly" 's, has the smuggest grin on his face, a suggestion of let's get this k/d's stuff over with so we can s/ng my songs, the serious ones about howT/fe really is. If I were Townshend I'd be singing a lot more "Boris The Spideb's or "Tatloo"s and a whole lot less of anything since Tommy—because ever since that albatross, Townshend simply hasn't been capable of writing wittily, foregoing humor for a profundity mistakenly assigned to him that he even more mistakenly took on as his proud duty,

The best moments of The Who Rocks America come when the band sings material from Race Dances and It's Hard, if only for its relative newness. My wife got to the heart of the matter: "God—am I sick of this song," she said during "Pinball Wizard." And when she called the "Twist And Shout" encore the best thing heard all night, I couldn't agree more. Let's hope this is the last Who concert; things probably couldn't get any worse. Someone give Pete Townshend □ kick in the butt and tell him to loosen up while he still con,

* it ir

Sony might not own the world yet, but it won't be for lack of trying. The company's latest software breakthrough is the "Video 45," Three of wnich have recently hit the marketplace. Whether they'll be successful is questionable at this point—doesn't MTV offer the same services, for free? And though the price of the "45s" is reasonable, wouldn't It be cheaper to buy a blank tape and just tape 'em yourself? Sony's Beta Hi-Fi system, however, offers a sound quality that even MTV or your average audio cassette deck doesnt, I'm told—and though I haven'1 yet heard the system, the sound quality alone might be what'll make the concept work. But only for the Beta format, of course—Sony does make their video 45s for the VHS format, understand, but ihey cost a little more and...heh, heh...don't sound as good. VHS manufacturers, meanwhile, insist they're working on a super VHS Hi-Fi system of their own, so we'll have to wait and see.

And whether the Sony Video 45s flop or not won't be determined until the product is a little more appealing, as well. Their first three releases aren't exactly magnificient. ExMonkee Mike Nesmith's two songs might as well be seen in their proper context, in the excellent, full length fr/ephanf Parts production, also available on videocassette. I've never heard of Jesse Rae and you probably haven't either, so why on eartn would you want to buy h/s video single? It's not exactly earthshaking. Best buy would hove to be the Duran Duran cassette featuring the "uncensored" "Girls On Film" video not shown on MTV and "Hungry Like The Wolf," shown on MTV at every possible opportunity. Coming up next from Sony are video singles by Todd Rundgren and Utopia and Rolling Stone Bill Wyman, who has never looked like a down in his life. Whether said videos have already been shown on MTV is unknown, but many other equally interesting ones hove. And here are a few of the more notable ones:

6est

MICHAEL JACKSON: “Beat It"—It's expensive and it looks it, which I guess makes it a great video on one level. But for the life of me, and this never bothered me in West Side Story, if i was in □ gang and everyone I knew started dancing—let alone if someone who looked like Jackson even showed up—I'd be too busy laughing to fight Is it me, or what?

DAVID BOWIE: "Let's Dance"—As Bowie videos go it's certainly not his best— "Ashes To Ashes" probably always will be—but it is certainly unusual, and a cut above other bands' more pretentious, art-conscious videos. Bowie's ujilizing Australia as a contexuallv "unfamiliar" place works well; there's a weird quality to the landscape, as with most Australian movies, that remains unsettling.

PLANET P: "Why

Me?"—Why me indeed, thousands ask, and this otherwise schlocky song from a Eurorock version of the Alan Parsons Project would be justly forgotten were it not for the kitsch value of this great video. Somehow Bowie's "Space Oddity" theme mixes witn The Dunwich Horror and the results are bizarre indeed. Fun fo look at, reminiscent of those creepy Italian horror/science fiction films where the slime quotient is jarringly higher than you're accustomed to.

EDDIE GRANT: "Electric Avenue"—A catchy song and a very colorful video, it's another use of visual repetition (in this Instance Grant singing the chorus) reinforcing the melody to provide and enhance the hook. Once you've seen the video, you'll never hear the song without thinking of the images the video's director's laia out for you. Good stuff.

BILLY IDOL: "White Wedding"—Took me a while to catch, and even longer to enjoy the song, but I did and I do, and I think that the entire song/video package is strong enough to break Idol massively in the States. If if happens, give the credit—or blame—to MTV.

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KENNY LOGGIN5: "Swear Your Love"—If

video has killed the radio star, what will it do to Kenny Loggins, who, thanks to MTV and nis current, fashionably short haircut, is now revealea as being not merely boring but having ears the size of mi/k /ugs as well? Wow!

THE FIXX: "Red

Skies"—"Stand Or Fall" looked like it'd break this band, but this weak video—a lipsynched live performance with o dinky green light beaming around randomly—may send 'em back to nobodyland faster than anticipated. Disapointing to see a decent video followed with a terrible one.

ECHO & THE BUNNYMEN: "The Cutter"—I like the band and the song, but this Is almost a carbon copy of U2's "New Year's Day" and □bout equally as compelling, i.e. where's National Geographic when we need it?

I know these bands place great stakes in looking cool, but hanging around massive chunks of ice isn't exactly the idea. CHUCK FRANCOUR: "Under The Boulevard Lights"—It's probably just a filler video, but one look ot this guy trying to look sincere while mouthing the dumbest lyrics this side of Bertie Higgins really got my goat, especially since he doesn't know what to do with his hands and might indeed be better off entirely without them. Bad luck, Chuck TRIUMPH: "A World OF Fantasy"—I hate to pick on Triumph, but in their way they pick on us with each of their increasingly idiotic videos. Have they no shame?