By Hans Morgenstern
By Joseph Hess
By Peter Gilstrap
By Julia Burch
By Jeremy Essig
By Nathan Smith
By Julie Seabaugh
By Julie Seabaugh
Although the focus is the 2000 St. Louis punk scene, a fair portion of the film delves into the history of the St. Louis underground, the clubs, bands and fanzines that exist only in the fond memories of the interview subjects. This attention to St. Louis' punk past may strike some viewers as unnecessary, and it certainly contributes to the film's sprawling scope, but it adds depth and interest to the coverage of the newer bands, which are, with a few exceptions, too young to know that they're part of a long tradition, one that predates their births in most instances.
The documentary's real charm, of course, rests in the fact that for most of these groups, the past doesn't matter. It's only rock & roll, invented anew from their parents' basements, and it's fresh and dumb and exhilarating, just as it's supposed to be. Meyer didn't focus on bands he already liked or even knew about: "I'd go out and see just any band, see something in the RFT and then go check them out. I started out with a wide range, and then I just narrowed it down to bands I thought were most interesting." One group that made the cut was 4 Sum 5 Sum, whose disastrous gig at the Family Arena, as part of the Mars Music Battle of the Bands, is a hilarious highlight. "Surprisingly, their songs are pretty good, in a geeky-pop kind of way, despite their youth," Meyer remarks. Another featured band, the Wreckless Angels, compensates for technical ineptitude with a manic melodic energy that sometimes recalls the great X-Ray Spex. "I know a lot of people are, like, 'Matt, why do you like them?' And it's hard to see any talent through the feedback and the inexperience, but that's all they've got right now. I think with any amount of persistence, they'll turn into something very cool," Meyer explains.
Meyer doesn't expect to make any money from the project -- in fact, he's still in debt from buying the camera and paying for the editing -- but he's happy with the final product, which he plans to sell at gigs and distribute to select local record stores through Blue Sky Distribution. "It's not an epic or anything," Meyer admits. "I think it would just be cool to give it to people who want to see it. People can look back on it and say, 'This was the way it was back then.'"
The concert calendar is crowded with shows we'd love to describe in more detail, but space, alas, doesn't permit. Herewith, a few recommendations:
Musicians from more than 15 bands have collaborated on a new single, "Freedom in the World," the sales of which will benefit the Red Cross' Sept. 11 fund. (Radar Station hasn't heard the song yet, but we feel safe in guessing it has a distinct "We Are the World" vibe.) Among the featured artists are the Javier Mendoza Band, Just Add Water, Somnia, Daisy Chain, the Patrick Clark Band, Robynn Ragland and Brandy Johnson. All participating musicians will perform on Friday, Nov. 16, at the Side Door/Club Z complex.
Also Friday evening, Quasi appears at the Rocket Bar. Ex-spouses Sam Coomes (Elliott Smith, Heatmiser) and Janet Weiss (Sleater-Kinney) have been making smart, sad and pretty indie-rock for some six years now; their new record, Sword of God, is as brilliant as anything they've ever done, a bittersweet slab of chamber pop, at once angelic and acerbic, sanguine and despondent. On the Beatles-kissed "It's Raining," Coomes sings, "When you give me gifts and money, I'm a swine before the pearls/It only serves to remind me that we're all alone in this world."