It must be more than a bit daunting to cover the Beatles. They’re The Beatles for the love of Pete, the alpha and the omega, the ones from whom everything good sprung, the band that changed everything. (True fact: I once was friends with a woman who said, “I don’t really like the Beatles.” I realized from that moment that she was a horrible person and I couldn’t be friends with her anymore. And I wasn’t.)
It’s funny how simple movies were back in the day. That’s not a bad thing. It seems these films relied more on acting and cinematography rather than some intricate plot. Lately I’ve been checking out a lot of Olive Films releases and been pleasantly surprised with what I’ve been seeing.
Last night I checked out a very low-key crime drama, Track The Man Down. As I said in the beginning, some of the films from this era have basic plots and focus more on the look and performances; Track The Man Down is a perfect example of this. A group of men rob a dog track and one of the gang members holds onto the cache of cash. Once they figure out the cops are onto them they split, leaving the cash with one of the gang member’s girlfriends. From there the story unfolds more, giving us little surprises along the way.
Jean-Luc Godard is a name I’ve been familiar with for a while and from a very young age. I first discovered Godard because of Quentin Tarantino. Tarantino was in an interview discussing movies and whatnot and mentioned he named his company after a French film called Band Of Outsiders. I immediately tracked it down because I was a nerd and Tarantino is a favorite of mine; he has introduced me to so many films that I cherish to this day.
After watching Band Of Outsiders, I did my best to try to track down other Godard films. Contempt, Alphaville, Breathless, and other films have really impacted me. Recently The Criterion Collection reissued his 1980 film, Every Man For Himself. My familiarity with Godard is through his films from the ‘60s and ‘70s so anything past that is new to me, but I was happy to dive into a Godard that was a little alien.
By Tyler Hodg
Never has so much nostalgia been so perfectly packed into a five-song, seven-minute EP. Then again, how often does a compilation of re-recorded anime theme songs get released?
Any ‘90s child (or geek) will be delighted to hear the fresh air breathed into some of his or her favorite TV themes. Send thanks to Andrew Conroy and his punk-rock “supergroup,” consisting of Tom Thacker (Sum 41, Gob), Anthony Bleed (Die Mannequin), and Darrin Pfeiffer (Goldfinger), for creating this amusing celebration of the golden age of anime shows. The themes for Pokémon, Dragon Ball Z, Digimon, and Sailor Moon are some of the catchiest songs to ever grace TV intros, so it comes as no surprise that Rain City Rockers’ Anime EP is delightfully mirthful.
Cherry Red Records continues to release some of the most fascinating compilations and reissues with a two-disc version of The Sweet’s debut album, Funny How Sweet Co-Co Can Be. The reissue, 28 tracks of music that range from bubblegum to The Sweet’s much heavier B-sides, is a mixed bag. On one hand, listening to the evolution of the band as they go from Archies-flavored pop to some quite heavy rock is fascinating. On the other, some of the songs are painful. Still, The Sweet were a great band, even when they were churning out silliness.
Back in 1986, I recorded Red Lorry Yellow Lorry’s “Walking On Your Hands” from WTUL college radio in New Orleans. It was the only track I’d ever heard from this Leeds band, but one I listened to frequently. For whatever reason, I never managed to delve further into the band’s discography until now. Cherry Red Records’ recent three-disc release of See The Fire (Albums, Singles and BBC Recordings 1982 – 1987) is a wonderful introduction to a band that has a singular sound but doesn’t fit into any single musical category.
As a kid I grew up on a variety of different films. My mother loved horror, dad loved westerns and action flicks, my grandma was obsessed with dramas, and I loved everything. I’m thankful for the upbringing I had because it made me who I am today. Even though I was a cinephile by the time I was seven or so, I still missed a lot of films. Now I’m 30 and I’m still making epic discoveries on my own. Recently I discovered one of the best westerns I’ve ever seen, Compañeros.
By Less Lee Moore
From the lurid Frank Frazetta-style cover art to its evocative title, The Witch Who Came From The Sea seems like it might be a female-fronted version of The Beastmaster. As intriguing as that possibility sounds, the film is something altogether different and much more profound. Directed by Matt Cimber (Butterfly, Hundra) in 1971, The Witch Who Came From The Sea wasn’t released until 1976, and even then, ran afoul of the MPAA for what they considered gratuitous violence, nudity, and rather dark subject matter.
By Ben Van D
For many, Acid House is inextricably linked to a place and time—the dim, sometimes garish, and impossibly vibrant rave culture of the early ’90s. It harkens back to an intoxicated era of manic excess, quasi-spiritual tribe mentality, and devastatingly harsh comedowns. If you missed it, imagine Cirque de Soliel performing in 1960s revival costumes in an underground parking lot at twice the BPM through a set of broken speakers.
The songs on Croydon Municipal’s Popcorn Girls defy simple description. They range from R&B burners, to country tinged numbers, to Shangri-La’s-like teen tragedies. Their commonality? In the 1970s Belgian club scene, they were guaranteed floor fillers. There was a certain type of dance endemic of the time, a “slow swing” with a rather specific tempo. As a result, Popcorn Girls is a moody, stone-cold, slow groove from beginning to end.