Wails From the Crypt (An Occasional Series)

So the other day, to my utter astonishment, I happened to chance across (via the invaluable Internet Archive, which is the 21st century equivalent of the Library at Alexandria) a whole bunch of back issues of Video Review magazine.

The short version: VR was the second greatest consumer magazine ever (the first was, as longtime readers are doubtless aware, Stereo Review) that I was lucky enough to work for in the fullness of my youth. It was published from sometime in the late '70s till the early '90s; I was the managing editor for two years in the late '80s, a job I was manifestly unqualified for. But that's a story for another day.

Anyway, I hadn't seen any of the stuff I wrote for VR since forever, and I thought it might be fun to share a brief piece that's relevant on some level to the theme of this here blog.

So -- from the April 1990 issue, please enjoy my thoughts on...

By any reasonable standard, this is an exemplary career documentary on what is now the longest-lived successful band in rock history -- well-balanced, musically rich and visually fabulous. Of course, there’s no question the band deserves this kind of hagiographic treatment; nobody in rock ’n’ roll has a more impressive body of work. So, with one major (very major) caveat, 25 X 5 has to rate as the best archival rock program anybody’s come up with since The Compleat Beatles back in 1981.

Granted, the format here -— talking heads and performance clips -— is not exactly innovative. Individual band members and assorted associates are glimpsed reminiscing as footage of the band from 1964 to the present flashes by (most of the songs, alas, are truncated). Much of the footage, put together with apparently unlimited access to the band’s archives, will be unfamiliar even to hardcore fans, but it's usually so good and so unerringly chosen that you hardly notice. It’s all -— and I mean all — here, from long-unseen excerpts from the band’s performance on TV’s old Hollywood Palace (yes, the show on which Dean Martin famously made fun of them) to the Rock ’n’ Roll Circus special (Mick claims they never aired it because his performance was substandard and the clip bears him out), and even a legendary and actionable tour film (a/ka Cocksucker Blues).

As a bonus, the new interview segments are often a hoot. Charlie Watts, predictably, comes off as the sanest of the bunch, and the problematic points in the band’s history -- their relationship with manager Andrew Oldham and the drug problems of cofounder Brian Jones -- are dealt with unflinchingly, while the soundtrack audio, even when the source material is TV mono, is pretty great. From a technical and conceptual standpoint, then, 25 x 5 could hardly be bettered.

So what is the aforementioned caveat? Frankly, it’s that the band’s story gets less interesting at the same time as their music does. In other words, however admirable their 1978 Some Girls comeback songs or their recent live performances may be, still only an acolyte or revisionist historian could argue honestly that the Stones’ most vital days are not behind them, that the recent ‘‘A Rock and a Hard Place" (which closes the tape) is as epochal as a ’60s classic such as "The Last Time.” That is, admittedly, an unfair complaint, although it’s not as unfair as what most critics wish had happened -— that the Stones had gone down in a plane crash around 1972 and become unassailable legends, like Charlie Parker or Buddy Holly.

Still, this is a very long tape and while your interest may flag in its later segments, there’s guaranteed to be at least one moment here that will have you emitting a Mick Jaggeresque ‘‘Whoo!”. So it seems ultimately churlish to carp -- face it: you or I should be so cool after 25 years.

Not a bad piece, I think, and yes, a lot of stuff has changed since it was written.

And Hole E. Shit -- here's the documentary film in question, completely complete and in a VERY high quality transfer. I had no freaking idea.

You're welcome very much, folks.