Now that I’ve watched “You’re Gonna Miss Me” twice, I feel slightly better versed to blog about it. I purposely didn’t write anything earlier because my first encounter totally depressed me. That and the fact that I didn’t want to spoil anything for readers who I knew would go along tonight. Anyway, it’s not what I expected and although there is performance footage in it, the main crux is a kind of Erickson Vs Erickson for custody of Roky. It's also too long. The stuff with his dad and Sumner’s therapist border on Larry David territory, but not in a good way. Patti Smith, Byron Coley, Gregg Turner and Thurston Moore get a short anecdote each and there are a few major players in Roky’s career missing that might have been able to balance the viewing experience away from being almost exploitative. In his apartment, where he tended to lock himself away, he turned on all kind of instruments and appliances to create a din that may somehow have kept his demons at a fathomable level. Like a sonic force field. I wanted a film that concentrated on the music, that celebrated what he means in the rock firmament. Roky is responsible for some of the most heart-rending music ever made. Any hint of that is buried deep in dysfunctional ugliness that ends up tainting any positive trajectory this may have set out with. By the end, Roky seems to be making progress and as we know he’s been doing shows since so that’s something. My overall feeling with the film is of disappointment. I know you most probably need to see it for yourself and by all means do but beware of the doldrums it may banish you too is all.

From Brother Don in SF...

cynical girls, wreckless eric @ 12 galaxies, san francisco...

just back from seeing the wreckless wonder and that pair of cynical gals at yet another dive (amy sure picks 'em) in the mission district here in old friss-co. as we approached the joint two mariachi guys were walking down mission singing in spanish playing guitars. lori said, "hey, i want to hear them!" but the nasal scream of wreckless eric, a voice i haven't heard live since the 1978 stiff tour, was coming from out of the bar, and we rushed across the street just in time to hear "reconnez cherie". wow! i must say i never would have recognized him. he had some old man hat on (which he joked about among other things). he's even more insane now than he was in the old days. he said something like..."i haven't left home in 26 years...i don't know what you're on about here in the states...i can't understand... er...what's that?", he asked, pointing to someone sitting at a table in front. "a quesadilla? what's that? i want one of those". he played a black single cutaway acoustic thru a fender bassman with a few effects... boss trem, mxr dyna comp, some kind of distortion box. he switched occasionally to some crazy green hollowbody electric with a fender type neck. this guitar was literally falling apart as he played it. but it sounded great. the barflies were carrying on so we moved upstairs so we could hear better. he finally got everyone's attention with his classic "whole wide world". great great great. i wish he would've done "veronica" as well. but he was fun, if not totally mad. as a friend said, after he was over... "he is what he is". amy joined him for one or two songs. he got a big kiss from her as she left the stage.
i ran down the street for some chips (crisps to you limeys) cause the necastle was going to my head and when i got back amy rigby and marti jones had just started. right off you could see what a great combo they make. perfect harmonies. marti looks damn good for fifty! they traded songs and did some duets on amy's songs. "don't break the heart" was nicely done as was "the trouble with jeannie". marti played an acoustic (martin i think) most of the night but added some nice electric 12 string stuff to amy's songs. (a red and white danelectro). it was all good but marti made some remarks about the "interesting" activity in the back by the bar. i.e.: people making more noise than the performers. amy took it in stride as she's used to this horrid behavior when she plays here.(note to amy: avoid the mission district dumps). finally the regulars cleared out and things got better. they were joined by some chick from LA named kelly who played and sang beautifully, adding a nice third part harmony. just before she came out, amy and marti sat down at a table on the stage for some girl talk. marti asked amy what kind of guys she likes. amy said, "well, i like guys that wear hats. how bout you". marti said, "i like bald guys". well ladies, i got you both covered!
excuse me...back to the show... they finished up with amy's recent crowd pleaser, "dancing with joey ramone", and in the encore they brought eric up and amy asked, "have you got any advice for the poeple out there, eric?" to which he replied, "don't play seattle!". but then came his classic, "take the cash". they all seemed to have fun playing that. and amy and marti finished up with marshall crenshaw's "cynical girls". soon as they left the stage there was some announcement that everyone had to leave because there was another show coming on. huh?? two sets in this dump? since when?? we caught up with amy before leaving and i got to meet eric finally after all these years. amy said there was some stiff records tribute going on down the street. i told eric he should go...he'd blow their minds. but he said his voice was shot. sounded like this was the end of their tour.
it was almost midnight so we had to split before the coach became a pumpkin and we all said goodbye to amy... sorry i didn't get to meet ms. jones. anyway get this: there were about 30 people in the place the whole night, right? okay, we get outside and there's a line all the way down the street waiting to get in??? this must be for the next act. i asked someone, "who are you waiting for?"
"ryan adams. AND phil lesh and it's only five bucks", said some excited young lady.
huh?? in a little bar at 22nd and mission?? on a thursday nite?? bizzaro world. and so we hopped on the 49 bus completely dumbfounded. anyway i'd rather pay more that twice as much to see amy, eric and marti jones than ryan adams and phil lesh any day. - don