A.R.E. WeaponsTruly satisfying music documentaries are an all too rare phenomena. The successes have been the ones that to maintained enough focus, either by necessity (The Decline of Western Civilization and its in the trenches, in the moment nature) or choice (The Devil and Daniel Johnston), to actually tell a story.
Kill Your Idols, through its first half, seems primed to be one of those rare worthwhile rock docs. The subject matter, the No Wave scene, seems like ripe fodder for a documentary. The No Wave scene was short lived, relatively small and never made it beyond New York's artsier neighborhoods. Yet, its brand of noisy post-punk has proven itself incredibly influential. It's a story worth telling.
The film starts out strong with Martin Rev (of Suicide) talking about his lack of place in the glam rock New York of'72 over the strains of his band's song "Ghostrider." Fast forward to the late 70's and an influx of art school types forming bands. Before long Brian Eno is producing the classic No New York comp and No Wave is born.
For the next half hour we have a collection of interviews with major players in the No Wave scene and their direct followers interspersed with vintage concert footage of the bands. The interviews include the likes of Lydia Lunch (Teenage Jesus & The Jerks), Jim Sclavunos (Teenage Jesus & the Jerks, The Cramps, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds), Michael Gira (Swans, Angels Of Light), Thurston Moore (Sonic Youth), Lee Renaldo (Sonic Youth), J.G. Thirlwell (Foetus), Arto Lindsay (DNA) and Glenn Branca (Theoretical Girls).
While the film focuses on these artists are allowed to talk, sharing their anecdotes (Sclavunos recounting his deflowering by Lunch or Gira's memory of tearing out a ceiling and having a foot high pile of rat droppings fall on him) and memories of what it was like to be there, it succeeds. However, halfway through, the film decides to attempt a larger story and falters.
In the section titled "amnesia" the film attempts to bring things full circle and introduces a collection of contemporary (circa 2002) New York bands. The selection is haphazard, throwing bands like Liars, Yeah Yeahs Yeahs, A.R.E. Weapons, Black Dice and Gogol Bordello into one big batch and asking them to comment on the current state of the New York music scene and The Strokes. It all feels like something from another, unfinished film.
The rest of the movie attempts to reconcile the two eras, cutting between representatives of the new and old guards. It's an interesting idea and given more time and a more careful selection it might have worked. However, as it stands it's a mess that devolves into a series of band and scene bashings that get as repetitive as Karen O's overuse of the words "like" and "y'know." Even the artists from the first half of the film lose something in the second half, more often than not sounding like angry old folks ranting to no one in particular about how things used to be. Lydia Lunch fares especially badly in this section.
The film's greatest problem is that of purpose. On the one hand it wants to be a story about the original No Wave scene yet at the same time it wants to talk about the last nearly thirty years of New York music. One or the other could have worked but trying to combine the two is destined for failure since they reflect two very different things.
The disparity can be illustrated by something Thurston Moore says early in the film, describing No Wave as a new "subterranean" subculture that even lost many of the punk kids. It was a subculture of a subculture, a sub-genre of a sub-genre and certainly not a representative of an entire city's musical identity. To take that sort of thing and then put it up against a scene that encompasses bands as disparate as Black Dice and Gogol is inherently nonsensical.
So, the groundwork and proper scope for a whole survey of the New York underground and what could have been a focused film about a specific time and place is fumbled by trying to force its connection to the present. Some moments, particularly the interviews with Eugene of Gogol Bordello, point to what the former could have been and the first half of the film indicate what the latter could have been with a little more restraint.
In the end, the film is worth a watch for those already fans of the musicians featured thanks to its impressive list of interviewees. As an actual film, however,it disappoints and doesn't warrant much revisiting. The director, Scott Crary, created a companion piece two years after this one called Kill Your Idols: More which I haven't yet seen so I can't say if it makes up for this film's shortcomings.
Kill Your Idols, through its first half, seems primed to be one of those rare worthwhile rock docs. The subject matter, the No Wave scene, seems like ripe fodder for a documentary. The No Wave scene was short lived, relatively small and never made it beyond New York's artsier neighborhoods. Yet, its brand of noisy post-punk has proven itself incredibly influential. It's a story worth telling.
The film starts out strong with Martin Rev (of Suicide) talking about his lack of place in the glam rock New York of'72 over the strains of his band's song "Ghostrider." Fast forward to the late 70's and an influx of art school types forming bands. Before long Brian Eno is producing the classic No New York comp and No Wave is born.
For the next half hour we have a collection of interviews with major players in the No Wave scene and their direct followers interspersed with vintage concert footage of the bands. The interviews include the likes of Lydia Lunch (Teenage Jesus & The Jerks), Jim Sclavunos (Teenage Jesus & the Jerks, The Cramps, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds), Michael Gira (Swans, Angels Of Light), Thurston Moore (Sonic Youth), Lee Renaldo (Sonic Youth), J.G. Thirlwell (Foetus), Arto Lindsay (DNA) and Glenn Branca (Theoretical Girls).
While the film focuses on these artists are allowed to talk, sharing their anecdotes (Sclavunos recounting his deflowering by Lunch or Gira's memory of tearing out a ceiling and having a foot high pile of rat droppings fall on him) and memories of what it was like to be there, it succeeds. However, halfway through, the film decides to attempt a larger story and falters.
In the section titled "amnesia" the film attempts to bring things full circle and introduces a collection of contemporary (circa 2002) New York bands. The selection is haphazard, throwing bands like Liars, Yeah Yeahs Yeahs, A.R.E. Weapons, Black Dice and Gogol Bordello into one big batch and asking them to comment on the current state of the New York music scene and The Strokes. It all feels like something from another, unfinished film.
The rest of the movie attempts to reconcile the two eras, cutting between representatives of the new and old guards. It's an interesting idea and given more time and a more careful selection it might have worked. However, as it stands it's a mess that devolves into a series of band and scene bashings that get as repetitive as Karen O's overuse of the words "like" and "y'know." Even the artists from the first half of the film lose something in the second half, more often than not sounding like angry old folks ranting to no one in particular about how things used to be. Lydia Lunch fares especially badly in this section.
The film's greatest problem is that of purpose. On the one hand it wants to be a story about the original No Wave scene yet at the same time it wants to talk about the last nearly thirty years of New York music. One or the other could have worked but trying to combine the two is destined for failure since they reflect two very different things.
The disparity can be illustrated by something Thurston Moore says early in the film, describing No Wave as a new "subterranean" subculture that even lost many of the punk kids. It was a subculture of a subculture, a sub-genre of a sub-genre and certainly not a representative of an entire city's musical identity. To take that sort of thing and then put it up against a scene that encompasses bands as disparate as Black Dice and Gogol is inherently nonsensical.
So, the groundwork and proper scope for a whole survey of the New York underground and what could have been a focused film about a specific time and place is fumbled by trying to force its connection to the present. Some moments, particularly the interviews with Eugene of Gogol Bordello, point to what the former could have been and the first half of the film indicate what the latter could have been with a little more restraint.
In the end, the film is worth a watch for those already fans of the musicians featured thanks to its impressive list of interviewees. As an actual film, however,it disappoints and doesn't warrant much revisiting. The director, Scott Crary, created a companion piece two years after this one called Kill Your Idols: More which I haven't yet seen so I can't say if it makes up for this film's shortcomings.
