Showing posts with label new york. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new york. Show all posts

Tuesday, 28 April 2026

Inspired Use of Music in Movies

Where is everybody?

I can vouch for the fact that at 7am on a Sunday morning, Times Square is deserted.

Radiohead fans will be aware that director Cameron Crowe used the song Everything In Its Right Place at the beginning of the movie Vanilla Sky.

It instantly brings the film to life and is a perfect example of a scene you can't imagine could have been presented better with any other piece of music. 

Maybe not as spine-tingling as the start of Apocalypse Now, when the The End by The Doors rises from the jungle, but it's inspired nonetheless. 

Soon after seeing Vanilla Sky, I was in New York City and staying just off Times Square. I wanted to see if I could replicate the scene where Tom Cruise drives his Ferrari 250 GTO through the deserted streets of midtown Manhattan and stops in the middle of Times Square. 

OK, well I didn't have the Ferrari, but I did have the location. It's an eerie feeling, wandering out onto a stretch of road that is normally packed with people. The silence is quite surreal.

Shooting that sequence for Vanilla Sky is reputed to have cost the studio $1 million to shut off the surrounding streets for three hours on a Sunday morning.

Transcendent sounds

It's no surprise Cameron Crowe has impeccable taste when it comes to movie music. He was a reporter for Rolling Stone in its classic 1970s heyday, as depicted in his love letter to the era, Almost Famous. His attention to period detail on that movie was painstaking. The incidental music was faultless and contains some unusual choices.

Including:

It Wouldn't Have Made Any Difference by Todd Rundgren
Easy To Slip by Little Feat
The Wind by Cat Stevens
Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters by Elton John
Feel Flows by The Beach Boys plays as the credits roll

And, of course, Elton's Tiny Dancer is one of the key moments in the movie. 

Here are some more of my personal favourites - movie scenes where the choice of music was truly inspired. 

Low Rider by War in Cheech & Chong's Up In Smoke

Woody Allen's ode to Manhattan, to the tune of Gershwin's Rhapsody In Blue

The final scenes of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind are perfectly matched with Beck’s version of the Korgis classic Everybody's Gotta Learn Sometime

As someone commented on this clip, "Is there any better “I just got laid” scene in film history?" It's Joseph Gordon-Levitt walking on air to the tune of Daryl Hall & John Oates in the film 500 Days of Summer.

In Paul Thomas Anderson's film Magnolia, the drama builds to an inspired movie moment as the various actors in different locations sing to Aimee Mann's Wise Up

The Three Degrees giving it their best in the nightclub scene in The French Connection

Ewan McGregor's heroin OD and trip to the ER in Trainspotting, to Lou Reed's Perfect Day.

Of course, there's a whole other story to be written about original movie soundtracks. Later.

Also On This Blog:





Tuesday, 4 November 2025

The Lady Who Edited Woodstock

Michael Wadleigh filming Richie Havens
I'm kind of obsessed with the 1969 Woodstock Festival. Not just the movie and the music, but how the event came together in bizarre circumstances - how it was both a triumph and a disaster. Perish the thought, but if I was ever to appear on the quiz show Mastermind, this would be my specialist subject.

Here's a wonderful story from someone who was right there in 1969.

My favourite podcast is This Cultural Life on BBC Sounds. Fascinating interviews by John Wilson with artists, writers and film-makers and not one that I haven’t enjoyed over about 50 episodes. In this episode, Wilson interviewed renowned film editor Thelma Schoonmaker, who has worked closely with Martin Scorsese for over 50 years.

Thelma, now 85, reveals the process of working with Scorsese in the cutting room and how, through him, she met her late husband Michael Powell, whose films with Emeric Pressburger, both she and Scorsese had so admired from childhood.

The innovative three-screen display
The most remarkable part of the interview for me is when Thelma recalls how she and Scorsese were part of the filming and editing team on the Woodstock festival movie - for which she received her first Oscar nomination for Best Film Editing - the first documentary ever to be nominated in that category.

She tells how the team of documentary makers acquired a new editing machine that would allow them to have three images displayed at once. “We thought, why don’t we make a movie like this," said Schoonmaker. 

Marty and Thelma in 1969

"With great bravery, Michael Wadleigh, the director, decided to go for broke and spend his own money to get us all up at Woodstock, filming. That was just an amazing experience."

What they encountered at the site of the festival was not what they had expected.

"We had rented motel rooms. We thought we would drive back there after the evening performances. But we couldn’t even get out. It was jammed with traffic and people. So for three days we didn’t have a place to sleep. We slept on the ground – tics in our hair – no food. Every once in a while, someone would come up with a frankfurter, if you were lucky."

Thelma with Wadleigh and the editing team

"Marty felt we were going to be able to go out to dinner. He had brought cufflinks."

Although Woodstock was an ordeal, they found it tremendously exciting as the festival unfolded, with a bonded crowd of 400,000 young people entertained by many of the greatest acts of the 1960s. The film-makers' challenge was how to document it as closely as possible, in very difficult conditions.

"We had six cameramen on the stage; 15 out in the audience. We had no idea what we were getting. We were hoping it was OK because we couldn’t send the film out to be developed," said Schoonmaker.

"The main cameraman was Michael Wadleigh, who was looking through a lens for three days solid – no sleep, no food – doing these amazing shots of people like The Who."

Scorsese was helping Wadleigh decide what songs to shoot and negotiating with managers for the rights to do it. Sometimes they would get kicked off the stage.

"The Who kicked us off the stage"
"The Who actually kicked us off the stage, but then they didn’t even notice – they were putting on such a great show - that we snuck back on."

Thelma was mainly underneath the stage, trying to load the film magazines. "It was raining a lot and the cameras were jamming, so they would throw the magazine under the stage and we would try and reload it. It was a mammoth, absolutely back-breaking job, but so exciting.

“The great moment was the last day. It was dawn; we had been shooting all night, again. We were completely exhausted and then Jimi Hendrix came on. I thought, is this really him, or am I dreaming? And he did this incredible job of playing The Star Spangled Banner and massacre-ing it to show what was happening in Vietnam. It was a transformative moment.”

Hendrix performing to a thinned-out crowd
And then suddenly, it was all over.

"Everyone had left and there was just mud and detritus everywhere. We packed up and on the way home we stopped and ate. Michael Wadleigh was so tired his head just crashed into his spaghetti. When I got home, I had big whelts on my pants because I’d been wearing the same thing for three days.

In the BBC interview, John Wilson points to the visceral excitement that comes across in the movie, which Schoonmaker says was helped by the fact that she, as the editor, was there and she knew how it felt.

“Of course, we hadn’t seen all the footage we had of the people who were out in the field. There were so many wonderful interviews that we didn’t even know we had."

"A breakthrough in how to film music"
However, Warner Brothers were not interested in the film. "They said it’s a news event, just get it out quickly. We said no, you don’t understand, we have something very special here; a breakthrough in how to film festivals, how to film music."

It took an act of thievery to prevent them from cutting the movie back.

"We were supposed to bring the movie to New York City to show the press. Warner Bros were saying you have to cut the movie, you have to cut it down; we said no.

"Dale Bell, who was one of the producers, and I, stole the soundtrack from the vaults, to keep them from cutting it. So they had no choice but to send the version we wanted to New York.

"They had Pinkerton guards in the projection booth. I wasn’t allowed to go in, because they knew we had stolen the tracks. At one point I was standing watching the press reviewers and they were getting up and dancing in the aisles, which I’ve never seen. So we knew we had something special."

As the credits rolled, Ted Ashley, the head of Warners Bros, came up and touched Thelma on the shoulder. "OK, you’re right," he said. "We won’t cut it."

My Woodstock 50th Anniversary Diary

IF YOU LIKE MY BLOG, PLEASE HIT THE FOLLOW BUTTON ON THE SIDE PANEL THANKS

Also on this blog:

2-Tone and possibly my best gig ever

Queen's 1976 Free Concert in Hyde Park

Memories of the Reading Festival, 1975

Five Days of High Drama at the Isle of Wight, 1970

From Pinner to LA - Elton's Big Breakthrough, 1970

A Wizard, A True Star - my all-time favourite album

Blonde On Blonde - Bob Dylan's Artistic Peak in the 1960s

 Joni Mitchell - The Hissing of Summer Lawns

Sunday, 26 June 2022

Blonde On Blonde - Bob Dylan's artistic peak in the 1960s

Cool Bob, 1966

Like many a 1960s classic album, Blonde On Blonde is a record that is very much of its time, but one that still resonates down the years as an important milestone in rock music. 

It marked the end of an era for Dylan himself, the culmination of two years of intensive writing, recording and touring that could have turned him into another rock and roll casualty. He was too smart to fall into that trap, though. Or maybe he was just lucky.

In 1965, Bob Dylan had consolidated his move into electric music with the album ‘Highway 61 Revisited’ and its iconic single ‘Like A Rolling Stone’. He had toured Europe, confronting the hostility towards his new electric sound from folk purists who called him Judas for abandoning the protest movement and his acoustic guitar.

In his contemporary review of Blonde on Blonde for Crawdaddy magazine in July 1966, Paul Williams had words for those who continued to boo Dylan at his live shows.

Electric Bob, cool suit
"As long as people persist in believing that Dylan should be playing his new songs on a folk guitar instead of with a band, they will fail to realise that he is a creator, not a puppet, and a creator who has now reached musical maturity. If you’re interested in what he’s saying, you must listen to him on his own terms."

By the end of 1966, Dylan would be in hiding, burnt out from the road and keen to embrace family life. But as the year opened, he was on top of the world commercially. He had sold 10 million records worldwide and had begun recording a double album (a first in the rock era) that would be the culmination of his early 60s rise to stardom. 

On Blonde On Blonde, in contrast to his previous albums, two things stood out for Paul Williams: “the uniform high quality of the songs chosen for this extra-long LP and the wonderful, wonderful accompaniments.”

Recording sessions had begun in New York in October 1965, but whatever Dylan was looking for, he wasn’t getting it from these sessions. His producer Bob Johnston recognised that Bob wanted to craft an album with greater refinement than his previous efforts. Organist Al Kooper and guitarist Robbie Robertson were retained from the New York dates and in early 1966, the sessions moved to the CBS studios in Nashville, using their highly experienced session players.

“Not only is Dylan’s present band easily the best backup band in the country, but they appear able to read his mind,” said Williams. “On this album, they almost inevitably do the right thing at the right time. They do perfect justice to each of his songs, and that is by no means a minor accomplishment.”

My vinyl copy is an original 1966 UK CBS version, with inner sleeves advertising
Andy Williams and Doris Day alongside Dylan, The Byrds and Miles Davis.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At the first Nashville session on Valentine’s night, Dylan recorded a keeper version of ‘Visions of Johanna’, side one track 3 of the original vinyl. Dylan biographer Greil Marcus suggested the song had been written during the blackout that shut down New York in November 1965, which might explain lines like “the heat pipes just cough” and “lights flicker in the opposite loft”.  

When people refer to this song as an example of Dylan’s genius, it’s down to the atmosphere he creates with the lyrics and their delivery.

"Inside the museums, infinity goes up on trial
Voices echo, 'this is what salvation must be like after a while'
But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues
You can tell by the way she smiles"

While folkies complained that he wouldn’t sing ‘Blowin’ In The Wind’ any more, rock fans puzzled over the meaning of these new words. Dylan's command of language and his own skewed and playful lyrics were a key part of the intrigue - and he wasn't about to enlighten anyone as to their meaning.

"Only when it is amplified by music and declamation," wrote the poet Gerard Malanga, "does Dylan's verse stand forth in all its living strength and beauty. In the subtle distinction of its peculiar rhythm...an entirely new language prevails."

On 'Memphis Blues Again', Dylan relates specific episodes and emotions in his offhand, impressionistic manner.

Well, Shakespeare, he’s in the alley
With his pointed shoes and his bells
Speaking to some French girl
Who says she knows me well
And I would send a message
To find out if she’s talked
But the post office has been stolen
And the mailbox is locked
Oh, Mama, can this really be the end
To be stuck inside of Mobile
With the Memphis blues again

This track sounds fresh and full of bounce, which is amazing considering it was Take 20, finally completed in the early hours of February 17. Dylan did a lot of lyric writing in the studio, so the musicians needed to be patient. 

Contemporary reviews referred to Dylan as a poet - how he "knew" and how he was "telling it like it is". But as NME writer Mick Farren admitted in a retrospective mid-1970s assessment of Blonde On Blonde, "If Dylan was really telling it like it is, we'd all know exactly what he was talking about. We wouldn't have been sifting through his symbolism, in the vain attempt to find his particular Rosebud." That sifting has only intensified in the intervening 50 years.

The gatefold of Blonde on Blonde and the NME reassessment by Mick Farren

It’s not just the words though. Credit must go to the musicians for providing such sympathetic accompaniment. The keyboards and the guitar playing, the bass and drums are all excellent. That must have been inspiring to Dylan himself, pushing him to produce his best work.

“Blonde on Blonde is - in the quality of the sound, the decisions as to what goes where, the mixing of the tracks, the timing - one of the best-produced records I’ve ever heard. Producer Bob Johnston deserves immortality at least,” said Williams in his ’66 review.

Bob and Joan Baez

There's a strong romantic thread running through much of the album. It's a key factor that made Blonde On Blonde so powerful for the listener. Dylan’s love songs up to this point - like ‘It Ain’t Me Babe’ (“I'll only let you down”) or ‘Love Minus Zero/No Limit’ (“Valentines can't buy her”) - had been less than tender.

Blonde On Blonde has a handful of truly romantic songs that stand today as classics, where the tenderness outweighs the bitterness; notably I Want You, Just Like A Woman and Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands.

The day after recording ‘Visions of Johanna’, the session for Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands began at 6 pm, but Dylan hadn’t finished the words. Finally, at 4 am, the musicians assembled for a take. This link has them working out an arrangement.

Though they were reasonably familiar with the song, the band hadn’t appreciated it would run for almost 12 minutes. Drummer Kenny Buttrey recalled they'd be looking at each other thinking, “man, this is it, this is gonna be the last chorus and we've gotta put everything into it we can. We're cracking up. I mean, we peaked five minutes ago.”

Part of the intrigue of the romantic songs on Blonde On Blonde was who Dylan was writing about - it could often be Joan Baez, on ‘Sooner Or Later’ or ‘4th Time Around’, for example. Dylan later acknowledged the debt he owed to Baez - who nurtured his career early on - but he did a poor job of repaying it in 1965, when Joan accompanied him to the UK.

You feel for her, watching the movie 'Don't Look Back'. the film about Dylan's UK tour in April 1965. By this time, Bob was already involved with Sara Lownds, but he hadn't told Joan. It was Sara, while working at the film production division of Time Life, who had introduced Dylan to D.A. Pennebaker, the director of Don't Look Back. It must have been humiliating for Baez, realising she'd made a big mistake in coming on that tour.

Sara poses for an unused version
of the Highway 61 album cover

.Bob would later say he was just trying to deal with the craziness of his life at that point; and it was crazy. Joan should never have gone with him to the UK. She described it as hell (everyone else was on drugs - she was straight). And Bob didn't - as she had expected - reciprocate Joan's generosity by inviting her onstage to perform with him.

Bob and Sara married in secret in November 1965. On ‘Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands’, it was his new wife he was serenading.

In his book 'Bob Dylan - An illustrated history', Michael Gross called Blonde On Blonde "letter-perfect rock and roll. Here was an album with a song that lasted a whole side. The symbolism was Dylan's but the situations were everyone's. If any one disc recorded in the Sixties can stand as a psycho-historical recreation of the times, this is it.

"With its passionate love songs and descents into Dylan's dramatic, urban landscape, is not an album to pin down. Like the ‘ghost of electricity, howling in the bones of her face,’ it is more something to feel.”

The first single from Blonde On Blonde in April 1966 saw Dylan being as plain as could be about smoking marijuana, while also deflecting to avoid censure. Knowing that a song called ‘Everybody Must Get Stoned’ might be banned before it even got out of the traps, he called the song ‘Rainy Day Women #12 & 35’.

In The Rolling Thunder Logbook, Sam Shepard quotes a character called Johnny Dark saying, “I couldn’t believe it the first time I saw ‘Everybody must get stoned’ on the jukebox. I mean there it was, right in front of everybody. Right there in the restaurant. I couldn’t believe you could play that kind of stuff in public while you were eating your cheeseburger.”

Regardless of the cryptic title, it’s a wonder the song wasn’t banned anyway. It did inevitably fall foul of conservative programmers at some radio stations in the US and it was excluded from playlists at the BBC. But exposure on pirate radio stations was sufficient to see it rise to No. 7 in the UK. It made it all the way to No. 2 in the US.

With Francoise Hardy, 1966
Blonde On Blonde was so entwined with the unique circumstances of the sixties – the flowering of youth culture and rebellion against the cultural norms of the time - that sober reflection was difficult for those who had lived it.

"One of the main problems approaching Blonde On Blonde after all this time (my italics) is the temptation to take the whole thing far too reverently," said Farren in 1976. 

Indeed, so here we are, another fifty years down the track and the album is still resonating.   

The playfulness and wilful surrealism of some of Dylan's imagery doesn’t detract from the power and fascination of this record. Even as a teenager, I could tell this was something to get lost in. Blonde On Blonde was the first Bob Dylan album I bought and it was another of those records that fired my imagination. Did I get the full message on those first listens? Certainly not, but what I did hear was an atmosphere and a sense that this music really had depth to it. I was tapping into an unattainable bohemian lifestyle.

In his book ‘The Ballad of Bob Dylan’, Daniel Mark Epstein described seeing Dylan’s comeback show at Madison Square Garden in 1974. “Now, at the age of 25, I could understand lyrics that meant little to me when I heard them at 17. Poetry grows with you.”

In the year when punk rock broke through in the UK, Farren was still in awe of Dylan's achievement 10 years earlier.

"It is certainly Bob Dylan's finest hour and there are less than a handful of other works that can seriously challenge it for the title of the greatest rock album of all time."

In fact, a year earlier, the NME writers had judged it to be, in their collective wisdom, the second greatest album ever, after Sgt Pepper.

In April 1966, Dylan’s friend Richard Fariña died in a motorcycle accident in California, just as he was launching his first novel. It was his partner Mimi Baez’s 21st birthday. Tragic in every way. 

Three months later, Dylan came off his bike near his home in Woodstock, New York. He knew he could have died on his motorcycle, as Fariña had.

Ironically, the accident offered him the perfect excuse to go into hiding.

Dylan wrote, in his memoir, Chronicles, Vol 1: “I had been in a motorcycle accident and I’d been hurt, but I recovered. Truth was that I wanted to get out of the rat race. Having children changed my life and segregated me from just about everybody and everything that was going on. Outside of my family, nothing held any real interest for me and I was seeing everything through different glasses.”

In his excellent book ‘Positively 4th Street’, about how the lives of Bob, Joan, Mimi and Richard had intertwined, David Hadju wrote: “For a year and a half after the accident, Dylan stayed in seclusion in Woodstock, while rock musicians absorbed and drew upon his ideas.

“The trio of records uniting poetry with elements of folk and rock and roll – Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited and the double Blonde On Blonde, came to be acknowledged as pop masterworks and charted a whole new style of music. 

“When Dylan began making music again, it was wholly for his own pleasure.”

He made very few public appearances once Blonde On Blonde was released and did not tour again for almost eight years.

Here's Dylan on the 1966 UK tour, singing 'Visions of Johanna' unaccompanied.

IF YOU LIKE MY BLOG, PLEASE HIT THE FOLLOW BUTTON ON THE SIDE PANEL THANKS

Also on this Blog:

Bob and Joan and Scarlett and Joni... Bob Dylan's Rolling Thunder Revue

Idiot Wind marks Dylan's re-emergence in 1975