Donwill's "Don Cusack in High Fidelity" (2010)

As I was finishing up my coverage of the tenth anniversary of the 2000 film High Fidelity, I received an unsolicited, but very polite, email from Dan Friedman, the Online Marketing Manager of Audio Treats, a marketing company. He alerted me to the existence of the new album by Donwill, a member of a hip hop group called Tanya Morgan (made up of Donwill, MC Ilyas, and Von Pea). This album, apparently, is an homage to High Fidelity like no other.

Some Googling later, I find the official site for Audio Treats, and its entry on this album, which notes:

Don Cusack In High Fidelity is Donwill’s musical representation of the movie from which it took its name. Not only is High Fidelity Donwill’s personal favorite film, but he identified with John Cusack’s character, Rob Gordon, so much that he created an entire album inspired by the movie. Donwill incorporated personal stories of falling in love, fearing commitment, hating his job, and learning life lessons, to create a clever and deeply personal musical interpretation of the film. Skillfully and artfully crafted using direct subject matter and quotes from the cult classic, the 16-track personal odyssey will resonate not only with fans of the original movie but also with anyone who has spent time trying to figure out the opposite sex. "The album is based on being in a state of perpetual pre-mid-life crisis," says Donwill. "Nothing in life will give you all the answers, but this album will help people find some of the answers they might be looking for."

Apparently, I'm not the only one with a great fondness for the film. But I'm not certain that I'm as confident as Donwill about the solutions to the problems presented in the film. Oh, well. (You can hear some of the tracks from Donwill's new album at his MySpace page here.).

High Fidelity: Jack Black Covers Marvin Gaye

What to say about Jack Black, the over the top comedian who rose to prominence with his role as Barry, the obnoxious record store clerk, in the 2000 film, High Fidelity? As the final installment of this site's coverage of the tenth anniversary of the release of that film, we pause to reflect upon Black's performance at the end of the film, during which he covers Marvin Gaye's immortal classic, "Let's Get It On." His emotive version of this tune is important, as the viewer is left with the impression throughout the film that Barry is nothing but a pretentious hack lacking any talent whatsoever. He brags about his musical efforts, but none of his friends or co-workers really believe that he has any musical chops whatsoever. Throughout much of the film, he banters about his band, Sonic Death Monkey, which is renamed several more times during the movie, once to Kathleen Turner Overdrive and again to Barry Jive and the Uptown Five. Thus, when he rises to take the stage at the film's end, everyone, the viewers of the film, assume that he will crash and burn. But he does not. He delivers a fine rendition of the song. And the film ends.

In 2000, I didn't know much about Jack Black, and I suppose not many others did, either. Of course, I had seen some of the films in which he appeared before High Fidelity, but I doubt I knew who he was at the time. (I adore the 1992 film Bob Roberts, in which Black appears as a sycophant of the rebel conservative title character.). He had already appeared in the Tenacious D television series, but I wasn't really familiar with it. But it was High Fidelity in which he truly came to light as a comic actor (although he has certainly appeared in his fair share of stinkers since then, including the wretched Shallow Hal and the even worse King Kong remake). But for every few instances of cinematic detritus, he charms us in a film like School of Rock. What to do?

And so it was with his first major role in High Fidelity, featuring his fateful homage to Marvin Gaye. How did that come to pass? In fact, it was Black himself who chose the song he would cover in the film, as one news account from April 2000 notes:

Tenacious D fans will be shocked to hear lead singer Jack Black sing "Let's Get It On" at the end of "High Fidelity," but it was Black himself who chose the song. Black is known more for his heavy-metal parodies than the sweet rendition of the Gaye standard that closes the movie starring John Cusack. "I pushed for the song that they ended up using just 'cause I thought I could sing it well. They were talking about me doing another Marvin Gaye song that I didn't think rocked as hard. I wanted to really get a good clop in the chops at the end of the movie." Black plays a bombastic music snob who works in a record store.¹

Curiously, though, the soundtrack to the film featured not the live version depicted on screen but a far more restrained studio version. I recall reading an article at the time, or shortly thereafter, indicating that Black had hoped one of the live versions recorded on film would appear on the soundtrack, but that when the soundtrack was released, the studio (or the record company) had included the studio version, which can only be characterized as lifeless. Alas.

Since 2000, Black has become a major star. Whether this is a good thing, the jury is still out. Well, it's probably a good thing, as he does make us laugh, every so often.

This brief article, of course, would not be complete without a link to the video:


1. "People," Cleveland Plain Dealer (April 20, 2000).

High Fidelity: Stiff Little Fingers' "Inflammable Material"

As a part of today's installment of this site's coverage of the tenth anniversary of the release of the 2000 film High Fidelity, we pause to reflect upon that movie's homage to the 1979 debut album of the Northern Ireland punk band, Stiff Little Fingers. And in so doing, we feature an original interview with Damian Rogers, an actress featured in that scene. In the film, record store clerk Dick (Todd Louiso) uses his knowledge of Green Day's influences to flirt with a customer, Anaugh (Sara Gilbert). Dick informs her that in addition to The Clash, one of Green Day's biggest influences is Stiff Little Fingers, whose album, Inflammable Material, he produces and begins to play over the store's system. As he does so, one customer (Rogers) asks if he's playing the new Green Day album. This amuses Dick and Anaugh.

Stiff Little Fingers is a band I probably never would have discovered had I not gone through a punk phase in the last decade. Sure, I remembered the scene from the film, but it was not until several years later that I stumbled across and purchased Inflammable Material. I can recall lounging about in a chair as the record playing and then sitting straight up as "Suspect Device," the album's first track, came over the speakers and shook me from the adjacent room. (Another stellar song on that album is "Alternative Ulster."). The band certainly has an energy that few groups - even those labeled punk today - apparently lack. When "Suspect Device" crashes into its chorus, there is no better example of punk rock. If you've not heard their debut album, or any of the live recordings from the 1970s, investigate them. As the years passed, the band altered its musical approach a bit, and by 1982, the band had a slightly poppier feel, as can be evidenced by its album, Now Then . . . The band has broken up, reformed, and to this day, still tours.

Here's the dialog from the scene in question:

DICK

Well, the interesting thing about Green Day is that, um, so much of their music is, in truth, directly influenced by, in my opinion, uh, two bands.

ANAUGH AND DICK

The Clash.

DICK

Uh, correct, The Clash. Uh, but also by this band called the Stiff Little Fingers. Um, I think you would really love this band.

At this point in the film, Dick begins to play "Suspect Device" over the record store's speakers. It's actually difficult to hear and distinguish in the scene. (A neat aside: This scene has been referenced by the band on its Twitter account.). The scene continues:

ANAUGH

It sounds great. My name's Anaugh.

DICK

The name's um . . . My name's Dick.

GREEN DAY GIRL

Is this the new Green Day?

In response, Anna and Dick share a knowing glance (despite the fact that Anaugh didn't know of the existence of Stiff Little Fingers until just a few moments before).

"Green Day Girl" was played by Damian Rogers, originally from Detroit, but in 1999, a Chicago resident. She can be seen in the image above in between Anaugh and Dick, at the very moment in the film where she asks her question about Green Day. (She can also be seen in this image, which was used in my previous post about the Beta Band, as well as in the background of a few other images in this post.). Last week, Rogers was kind enough to submit to an email interview with this site, in which she discussed her involvement with the film and professed a wistful nostalgia for the Chicago she knew in the late 1990s. (We here at this site fully support any type of nostalgia for the 1990s and appreciated her thoughts and memories of the era.).

Without further ado, the interview with Ms. Rogers is as follows:

1. How did you become a part of the film, High Fidelity?

A lot of the extras in High Fidelity — and in that scene especially — were people who actually spent a lot of their time and money at independent record stores in Chicago, like Reckless Records. I had become friends with a couple people who were working on the film and lots of people I knew were participating in one way or another.

It was a total fluke I ended up with a line. That line was supposed to be delivered by Al Johnson from the band U.S. Maple, but then he was cast in a larger cameo in a different scene. ([Jack Black's] character tortures him by refusing to sell him some rare vinyl — I’m pretty sure it’s a Captain Beefheart record.). So the line was up for grabs on set and they gave it to me minutes before shooting that part of the scene.

2. You are credited as "Green Day Girl." What do you remember about the filming of your particular scene?

Most of the people playing customers sifting through records in the background were a part of the Chicago music scene at the time, or at least, a particular corner of it. Ian Williams (formerly of Don Caballero and Storm & Stress, currently of Battles) has some prominent face time. A bunch of my old friends and acquaintances are in it, so when I watch it, I am totally distracted by my instinct to scan the screen for their split-second appearances.

As for the day of filming, I remember milling around, lots of waiting, sitting with my friend Nicole as she grew increasingly bored and irritable. I remember that one of the professional extras made a point of asking me why so many of us already knew each other.

It was an interesting way to spend a day of my life. A long, repetitive day, mostly spent watching other people work, but interesting nonetheless. And due to union contracts, I was issued an empty trailer when I was upgraded from non-speaking shopper to “Green Day Girl.” This delighted me, even though I didn’t have the opportunity to lock myself in there.

3. Were you previously familiar with the band, Stiff Little Fingers, whose song plays and is referenced in that scene?

I’d heard their name, but I don’t think I’d ever listened to them at that point. (Though my husband owns a couple of their records, so they’re in the house now.) As far as the movie’s soundtrack goes, I’m more into the old psychedelic stuff and the Drag City artists — Love, 13th Floor Elevators, Kinks, Smog, Plush, Royal Trux, etc.

4. Did you talk music with any members of the principal cast? If so, what did you discuss?

I have no memory of talking about music with any of the members of the principal cast. I did have a number of conversations about music with people working on the production side. The screenwriter and music supervisor was already deeply engaged in Chicago’s underground and independent music scene — his name still pops up in the liner notes of various Drag City releases. I can’t really watch the movie objectively, but I would credit any sense of authenticity to a real effort on the part of the filmmakers to involve people they respected in as many aspects of the film as possible.

The last time I saw High Fidelity — I’ve actually only seen it twice in its entirety — it made me a bit nostalgic for a time and a place that is ten years (and a couple cities now) behind me. The scene in which Lisa Bonet is singing as “Marie De Salle” was shot at the rock club Lounge Ax, a place I spent many, many nights. In 1999, it seemed to be the center of my social and emotional world in a way I doubt another public establishment ever could be again. Maybe it was only really for a few years, but I felt like I lived there, with all that that implies.

Lounge Ax closed at the beginning of 2000, the year the film was released, also the year I left Chicago for New York. It’s a place that survives in images and memory, but that I can’t go back and visit. It’s bittersweet to see it onscreen. For me the whole movie is a surreal blend of artifice and document. I appreciate it as a kind of collision worlds. I remember a friend of mine’s boyfriend was bored by how breathless and star-struck all these supposedly jaded hipsters became when Hollywood came to town for a few months. “It’s not the fucking Taj Mahal,” he said. “It’s a movie. In a couple years, the video will be on sale in the used bin at Reckless.” (I did, in fact, buy the DVD from a used bookstore around the corner from me in Toronto.)

But it seemed very important and exciting at the time. I suppose, like everything, it’s relative. I remember when I was spending every night at Lounge Ax filming bands during the last two weeks they were open, one of my colleagues at the literary journal where I worked marveled at my commitment, confused by my grief. After all, he pointed out, “It’s only a bar.”

Rogers is not the only one online with a nostalgia for the Lounge Ax. A Facebook group called "I Miss The Lounge Ax" boasts 903 members as of this writing. (Additional information about the now defunct club can be found here and here.). Here's the scene featuring Bonet performing at the Lounge Ax referenced by Rogers in her interview:


Rogers's official site can be found here (and, if you're on Twitter, you can follow her here). She describes herself as "an American-born poet who now lives in Canada" who "sometimes writes about music." Her first book of poems, Paper Radio, was published in the fall of 2009. (You can hear her read some of her poems at her MySpace page.). Its cover is below:

Finally, the scene in question featuring Louiso, Gilbert, Rogers, and the music of Stiff Little Fingers can be viewed here:

High Fidelity: The Minutemen's "Double Nickels on the Dime"

As a part of today's installment of this site's coverage of the tenth anniversary of the release of the 2000 film High Fidelity, we pause to reflect upon that movie's brief homage to an old Minutemen album. And in so doing, we feature an original interview with Chris Rehmann, one of the actors from the scene in question (featured in the image below wearing the Charlie Brown t-shirt). But, first, onto the music: Featured briefly in the film is the 1984 Minutemen album, Double Nickels on the Dime. Two hooligans, Vince (Rehmann) and Justin (Ben Carr), shoplift a handful of LPs from Championship Vinyl, located in Chicago at the corner of Milwaukee and Honore streets and owned by protagonist Rob Gordon (John Cusack). Gordon spots the two shoplifters just as they are about to leave the store; he yells to his employee, Barry (Jack Black), to bar the door, but Barry is too late, and the thieves flee the premises. Rob and Barry immediately give chase outside the store and around the corner.

Gordon and Barry catch up to them, and Gordon orders them to halt, which they do, when the two young punks realize that Gordon has their skateboard, which may be more valuable than the pilfered records. The two miscreants them toss their records and tapes onto the sidewalk:

Gordon seems surprised at the records that they have stolen, going so far as to ask if they are taking them for someone else. (Note in the image above the copy of the Minutemen album at issue as well as the copy of 1978's Music for Films by Brian Eno. Gordon also professes surprise at their pilfering of music by Ryuichi Sakamoto, Serge Gainsbourg, and Sigue Sigue Sputnik.). The two young thieves scoff at Gordon's disdain, suggesting that Gordon is a musical bigot to think that just by looking at them he can discern what music they should or do in fact enjoy.

The encounter ends with the two sets of adversaries parting ways (although Gordon later learns that the two thieves are musicians in their own right, and he elects to produce their first EP).

For me, the Minutemen was one of those bands that I had always heard of, but never truly discovered until later adulthood, when I could afford to experiment and buy expensive selections from the SST Records back catalog. (Try finding a new copy of one of their LPs for under $16!). Around 1991, I bought a copy of the SST Records compilation, SST Acoustic, which featured one track by the Minutemen, "Stories," which originally appeared on the band's final album, 1985's 3-Way Tie (For Last). That album, of course, was released very shortly before the untimely death of D. Boon, who along with Mike Watt, was the core of the band. It was not until a number of years after I bought the acoustic compilation that I discovered Double Nickels on the Dime, which is really an epic example of the fusion of punk and other genres from the mid-1980s.

Last week, Rehmann kindly agreed to an interview, in which he reflects upon the filming of the scene in question and his memories of shooting in Chicago ten years ago. He recalls:

I got the part when the director Stephen Frears and a casting agent Claire Simon came to a Second City class I was in. They asked me to come and audition for the part. A friend from the second City Alum named Tim O'Malley coached me through the audition and helped me get the part.

I was new to how film worked as it was my first paying job. I was just thrilled the entire shoot. I remember that my first day on the set was to do my hair. The spots. Due to the director and producers having to check out how dark or light the spots or blond was it took seven hours before I was done.

Shooting the part when we got busted was interesting because the set was in a studio and the outside was set on location. So it was run out the door. Then two weeks later we were running away from the door. Jack Black was also a lot of fun in between takes, joking around a lot.

I was not [previously] familiar with the Minutemen. I did not get a chance to talk much music with the cast. Everyone was so busy, except Jack Black, who took the time to hang out, that I did not have much time to talk music. I did overhear discussions by the producers on what music they wanted in the film and one time let John [Cusack] listen to it when he was in make up. I was not in make up with him much and he ate his lunch mostly in his trailer.

The fondest memory was getting the part meeting John Cusack and Jack Black, and then shooting in the double door for the club scene near the end of the film. I was able to watch Jack sing, and it was just a lot of fun. I also got to improvise the part where I was stealing again and when seeing the movie with friends, it got a laugh. So I was proud of that.

Since High Fidelity, Rehmann has appeared in What about Joan (a television series starring John Cusack's sister, Joan), Early Edition, and a few television commercials but, as he notes, "nothing as big or cool as being part of High Fidelity."

Here's another scene featuring Rehmann, Carr, and Cusack:


Anthony Ortale, a Flickr user, has posted a photograph of the exterior that was used for Championship Vinyl in Chicago and the scene at issue in this post. As Rehmann noted, the film's scenes inside the record store were on a set, but the exterior was on a street corner in Chicago. See Ortale's photograph, which shows the site now all boarded up, here.

High Fidelity: The Beta Band's "The Three E.P.'s"

Today, as a part of this week's coverage of the tenth anniversary of the release of High Fidelity, we turn to The Beta Band. There's a scene in the film, in which Rob Gordon (John Cusack), pauses to survey the scene in the record he owns, Championship Vinyl. He notices customers walking through the establishment and browsing, but he decides to take matters into his own hands. He retrieves a copy of The Three E.P.'s, a 1998 compilation of, well, three previously released extended plays by The Beta Band, the British band that some have dubbed "folktronica." Perhaps that's just one way of saying that their music is catchy?

Gordon turns to his employee, Dick (Todd Louiso) and whispers "I will now sell five copies of The Three E.P.'s by The Beta Band." "Do it," replies Dick, with gravitas. He does, and the album's first track, "Dry the Rain," begins to play over the store's system. As it does so, Rob surveys the store, waiting for (and clearly expecting) a reaction from his clientele. He waits.

(It should be noted that when the song begins, its opening sequence is truncated. The portion of that is first heard is actually several moments into the song, rather than its initial beginning.).

Sure enough, the customers react.

One man, who is grooving to the music, asks Rob, "Who is that?"

"The Beta Band," Rob replies.

"It's good," says the customer.

"I know," says Rob, very sure of himself.

I remember seeing this scene in 2000 and being driven to investigate The Beta Band, a group about which I knew little, if anything, at the time. Sometime thereafter, I found myself at San Antonio's Hogwild Records, where I picked up a copy of The Three E.P.'s, which I remember wearing out at that time. A fine album, actually, and "Dry the Rain" does indeed provoke the same sort of reaction depicted in the film when first heard by an unsuspecting listener. Several years later, when I began frequently downloading music from the iTunes Store, I would also acquire the band's 1999 self titled album and their 2001 record, Hot Shots II (which Wikipedia alerts me know to confuse with the 1993 film, Hot Shots! Part Deux). Apparently now defunct, the band would release one more record in 2004 before calling it quits.

It's actually unusual in a film for a character to pick up a copy of a compact disc, mention both its title and artist, and the play a song from the referenced album. Here, Gordon does just that, which allows the viewer to later track down the song far more easily. (Remember, this was in the days before Shazam.). "Dry the Rain" would also appear on the film's soundtrack.

Below, you'll find a clip from High Fidelity, which includes the above referenced scene (as well as a scene featuring a discussion of Stiff Little Fingers to be discussed later this week).

High Fidelity (2000) - Tenth Anniversary

Ten years ago this week, on March 31, 2000, the wonderful film High Fidelity starring John Cusack and directed by Stephen Frears, was released in theatres across the nation. Anyone who has survived - or attempted to survive - a crumbling relationship can relate to this film, which relies heavily on its source material. Indeed, those familiar with the original 1995 book by Nick Hornby know that the adaptation was nearly flawless, with just a few changes to transplant the narrative from the U.K. to Chicago, Illinois. Cusack, essentially playing John Cusack, tortures himself by recounting the most excruciating break-ups of his life. In his confessions, he provides some surprising insight and a number of touching sentiments. Also interesting are Cusack/Hornby's observations as professional appreciaters - unpaid critics who cast their disdain upon those can't see what they see in music (as well as how music itself often fosters the misery of the broken-hearted). Jack Black - still early in his career - showcases his comic talents as Barry, the obnoxious record store clerk and frontman of the mighty band, Sonic Death Monkey. Popular music is almost a character in and of itself, as the characters are constantly referencing this album or that, and relating how particular songs and records affect their lives.

I have seen this movie many, many times. Many times. Surely you've seen it, too, and know the characters and plot all too well. This week, I plan to do a brief series of posts regarding some of the albums and music mentioned in the film, including some that are pivotal in particular scenes in the film. So, without further ado, this week, you can expect posts on the following:

• Monday, March 29, 2010: High Fidelity - Tenth Anniversary Intro
  
• Tuesday, March 30, 2010: The Beta Band - The Three E.P.'s
  
• Wednesday, March 31, 2010: The Minutemen - Double Nickels on the Dime
  
• Thursday, April 1, 2010: Stiff Little Fingers - Inflammable Material
  
• Friday, April 2, 2010: Jack Black Covers Marvin Gaye

Though far less ambitious than my commemoration of the tenth anniversary of the film, Zero Effect (which was, of course, a lesser known film), I would like to use this series of posts to pause to reflect upon the music and narrative of High Fidelity. The film captures so much of what it means to be a fan of both music and melancholy. In so doing, it references some meaningful albums and songs, some of which are not as well known as they should be. This project is my attempt to remedy that in whatever small way I can via this medium.