Hi! How was your weekend? I spent approximately half of mine asleep, a quarter of it whining about this stupid cold, and a quarter fretting about the impending work week (and all the weeks that I have to go to work for ever and ever amen). The high point was D bringing home “Metallica: Some Kind of Monster,” which Sue and Rog and (I’m pretty sure, but I can’t Googlocate the entry) Paula wrote about at greater length and with more insight, like, when the movie came out. I’m not even close to a fan of metal of the heavy, death, Norwegian, black, or hair variety, but I thought that the documentary (and much of the deleted footage) did a fascinating job of exploring that weird area between music as art and creative expression and music as a business. I also liked how the filmmakers told several stories without painting any single character or interpersonal dynamic as the villain or resorting to tired VH-1 cliches. Sure, Phil Towle was trying to protect his meal ticket by questioning the band when they decided they were ready to phase out his therapeutic sessions, but they also expressed real gratitude to the guy — however much his fashion sense made my grandfather’s ’70s Florida attire look slick — for holding the band together and helping them work through some of their personal problems.
Now I can’t wait till “DiG!” comes out on DVD.
Now I can’t wait till “DiG!” comes out on DVD.
No, trust me, you can wait.
It wasn’t that bad, although Anton Newcombe is a straight-up nutjob. Oops, I spoiled it.