Econo lodged

I always forget that coffee brewed in a cafe is going to be about three times as strong as the stuff I make at home. It almost ruined my viewing of We Jam Econo Thursday night. I'd just eaten dinner and feared falling asleep in the Red Vic, so I purchased a small coffee and drank it while waiting in line. Mistake. I wrung my hands and squirmed throughout the film, although I admit it was hard to tell how much of that was due to the caffeine and how much of it was because I was staring my own formative years squarely in the face as I watched.

Just about anyone who knows me knows how I feel about the Minutemen. You don't exactly have to encourage me to watch an 85-minute documentary about them, especially one that sold out both evening shows (!) last time I tried to see it. We Jam Econo is certainly the best existing film about the band, and may be the best one that will ever be made. The filmmakers talked to all the right people (Pettibon, Baiza, Doe, Rollins, Ginn, Carducci, Flea, Mom Watt, etc.). It is, basically, the film I've been waiting twenty years to see.

There is some messy live footage, but some really terrific film of the band in action too. The narrative follows the band from childhood through its tragic end, simultaneously tracking its musical evolution and its fraternal tale of discovery and inspiration. Mike Watt has always had the uncanny ability to translate his own light-bulb realizations into a musical language that spurs other people to do good work as well, and that comes out loud and clear in the film. There is also quite a bit of wit, particularly in relation to the band members' early years ("I like my strings loose!") and their preoccupations ("D.Boon chose his guitar tone for political reasons....").

Now I've been listening to Double Nickels for days. It never gets shelved for long in my house. (Was it really all about Ummagumma and Hagar?)


FMFM: Ida Cox's Blues for Rampart Street, which you could take as an elegy for our missing city.