Keeping Track of Soundtracks Part Five

The hits keep on coming, kids. So much rock and pop music was used during a certain period in cinema, rough 1965 until 1974, that it is difficult to get a grasp of it all. Sometimes the actual items themselves are also difficult to see; music rights weren't always secured for new media not invented at the time of filming, causing huge legal headaches later. The enterprising young pop star who knew which way the wind was blowing wanting a piece of the pie just as much as the movie moguls.

Donovan was huge in the 1960s, right up there with the Beatles and Dylan. I admit liking his material quite a bit, a part of my personal soundtrack growing up. He started out folk, equally facile in everything from jazz to heavy metal, using the best arrangers and studio musician to produce a string of classic singles and albums. Donovan may have been the first rock musician to explore world music significantly, as early as 1966. Significantly, his music synthesized many trends into a commercial whole, and he still keeps on exactly the same as always.

His first soundtrack work was in one of the last British 'Kitchen Sink' dramas, grubbing stories of working class life specific to England at the time, 'Poor Cow'. Like McCartney's 'The Family Way', it told the story of young people, sex, and consequences. Unlike McCartney's music, the song 'Poor Cow', used under the titles, is contemporary, even released as a single around the world. Donovan was credited with a full soundtrack, but I have never seen the movie nor album, unsure how extensively his work might have been.

1969's 'It It's Tuesday, This Must Be Belgium' was a big ensemble comedy, American tourists trampling across Europe, a big hit at the time. Donovan, who had quite a number of American television under his belt by this time, including complete one hour summer replacement specials (remember those?), gets to act this time; a guitar carrying youth who gets to sing on camera. Not much of a stretch, he fits in well for a few scenes. Strangely, he writes but does not perform the title song, and the song he does sing in the movie was given away at the time to Mary Hopkins.

'The Pied Piper' is another thing altogether, a strange Medieval fairy tale almost too grotesque for children. This time Donovan gets the big role, although he is not on screen that much. Directed by Jacques Demy after a string of hits, some musicals like 'The Umbrellas of Cherbourg' as well as the flop 'Model Shop' using excellent music by Spirit, this has a Monty Python feel about the Middle Ages, even if 'Monty Python & the Holy Grail' was years away in the future. Another reference would be 'Time Bandits', a children's film not afraid to scare kids.

It's quite an interesting film, filled with excellent British character actors like Donald Pleasance. Donovan's character is not that likeable, coming into town to do a job, getting stiffed by the mayor, leaving with all the children to an unknown future. Perhaps that's why I enjoy it so much; it doesn't conform to plot devices or clichés. Again, Donovan provides a complete soundtrack, yet it was never released for some reason.

That same year, 1972, came another European film, 'Brother Sun Sister Moon'. Donovan only provides the soundtrack this time, only the international version. Directed by Franco Zeffirelli, hot off a hippie take on 'Romeo & Juliet', it is a hippie retelling of the story of Saint Francis of Assisi. An Italian film, it has an alternate soundtrack by the excellent Riz Ortolani. Italian film composers during this time period were uniformly excellent and inexpensive, scoring films from around the world.

'Brother Sun Sister moon' is pure art cinema, an ambitious film, a hit in Europe like 'The Pied Piper', not doing much business in the states. If you are in the mood for two hours of pastoral peace and love, it is a great movie. It also reflected Donovan's personal philosophy, one that he carries to this day. After this, he jumped off the star treadmill, moving to the California desert to raise his kids.

The Kinks, especially leader Ray Davies, were tremendously interest in film and television. Aside from writing the theme song for a British comedy in 1968, 'Til Death Do Us Part', he specifically wrote music for five episodes of a BBC drama, 'Where Was Spring?'. Later that year he conceived his first true rock concept album, 'Arthur, or the Decline & Fall of the British Empire'. It was originally planned to be a television play, with a completed script, scheduled for production. Granada TV pulled out a the last minute, citing expenses; all we are left with is the excellent album.

After appearing as both actor and musician in 'The Long Distance Piano Player' for television, Ray finally had the chance to provide a complete soundtrack for a movie. Unfortunately, that movie was about the world's first penis transplant; 'Percy'. A particularly juvenile strain of British humor, all innuendo with little wit, the movie is a typically terrible example of a 'Carry On' film. The soundtrack, however, was serviceable, with a few excellent songs.

In 1971, the time of 'Percy', the Kinks were desperate for money. A major English Invasion band earlier, they had been banned from touring America in 1965. Despite creating uniformly excellent music, their fortunes slowly declined; the magnificent 'Village Green Preservation Society' was a major flop in 1968. Some fast cash-on-delivery was needed, although in his perverse way, Ray Davies wrote songs with the exact opposite meaning as the song, typically perverse for this aptly named group. Cheek out the excellent 'God's Children' to see what I mean.

Ray turned his attention to creating stage plays for rock concerts, possibly winning the award for most concept albums, beating out all those progressive rock groups. One such album, 'Soap Opera', was turned into a one hour television musical, 'Starmaker'. Ray even wrote the script as well as acting the lead part. For once, all the singing and music was done live in the studio. It you can find a copy of it online, it's worth a look.

There were  many one-off movies during this period, some of which have dropped out of sight ever since. "Celebration at Big Sur' was one such, an amateurish attempt to record a mostly folk 1969 festival on the California Coast. The music is great, but most of the time is spent backstage. If you ever wanted to see David Crosby naked in a hot tub full of women, or didn't get enough of freaked out hippies invading the stage while psychotic on drugs, this is the movie for you.

'Groupies' was an authentic documentary about the subject, done in 1970, very rare today. It was too authentic, like the Rolling Stones' 'Cocksucker Blues'. Real groupies, such as Cynthia Plaster Caster and Pamela Des Barres, dish the dirt. Not only that, but real rock stars show up, including Alvin Lee, pretty boy guitarist from Ten Years After, and Joe Cocker. There are a number of live musical performances, which is most likely why this one has never seen the light of day in recent decades. It's true to life, but not very pretty.

Much more interesting was 'Dirty Duck', an authentic animated film full of great music via Flo & Eddie, aka Howard Kaylan and Mark Volman. These two had been hitmakers in the highly underrated Turtles, voices like angels, been everywhere, done everything. As capable of comedy as they were of music, they hooked up with Frank Zappa, being featured players in the totally bonkers '200 Motels'. This was a collaboration with the animator from that film, Charles Swenson.

There was a bunch of animated adult films during this time, most famously two 'Fritz the Cat' movies by Ralph Bakshi. that tried to be hip, but Robert Crumb, the creator of the original underground comic character, hated them. Bakshi was from the 1950s; his idea of a musical interlude is Bo Diddley, cool but nearly two decades old. 'Dirty Duck' was the real deal, ugly, weird and hairy.

There is a Zappa vibe to the movie, not surprising considering the connections. Roger Corman, King of the B Pictures, financed it for a paltry $110,00, way too little money for an full length animated feature. It was completed anyway, with a great soundtrack by Flo & Eddie, sadly never released. If you are in for a wild ride, this is the movie for you.

Across the pond, there were some surprisingly effective movies being produced despite the crashing British economy. 'That'll Be The Day' combines Kitchen Sink drama with the story of a rising pop star, played by rising pop star David Essex. It conveys the look and mood of early British rock & roll, adding authenticity by using Ringo Starr and Keith Moon, among others. Highly regarded by critics, it was a substantial success when it came out.

The soundtrack utilizes many original tracks from the era. When George Lucas did the same thing a year later in 'American Graffiti', it was considered ground breaking. This is an effective drama with excellent acting from everyone, even the volatile Moon. Worth searching out, it ranks as one of the best rock movies of its era.

A follow up came out the following year, 'Stardust'. This is a more complicated film, the rise and fall of the same character as in the first film. Keith Moon is the drummer in his band, acting exactly like Keith Moon. Harder to find than the original, it didn't spawn a best selling album, only a single for David Essex. It spans Merseybeat to heavy metal, with plenty of betrayal in between.

This isn't a feel-good story; it is a tough but accurate portrayal of a young man hitting the big time, losing himself in the process. By the end, he has retreated into a Syd Barrett-style drug induced exile. The two movies, taken together, are the only contemporary look at the rock world, its effect of people and events, done from a serious point of view. I cannot recommend both of them enough.

Even better, surprisingly enough, was the glam rock group Slade's sole venture in cinema, 'Flame'. You could expect a movie from a grammar-challenged group with hits like 'Mama Weere All Crazee Now' and 'Gudbye T' Jane' to be in a film worthy of, say, Herman's Hermits. Instead, this is a Shakespearian tragedy, a band being torn apart by management demands, entirely more serious than expected. It shows the grubbiest sides of England, young men desperate for not just success but a way out, falling into trap after trap, eventually splitting up.

The guys in the group, especially Noddy Holder and Jimmy Lea, show acting talent. Even the soundtrack is not the usual ear blistering crunch, instead having delicate ballads when needed. Together with manager Chas Chandler, from the Animals as well as bringing Jimi Hendrix over to England, they fill the movie with every nasty rock story ever perpetrated. Expecting fluff, you get a harsh slab of the reality behind the machinery of fame. On this unusually high note, I'll leave this installment.