Review

The Wrecking Crew

George Harrison and Joe Osborn
George Harrison and Joe Osborn

Tommy Tedesco was a minor hero of mine; I used to read his "Studio Log" column in Guitar Player magazine religiously. It was a witty and insightful read that demystified the life of a studio musician. In each column, Tedesco would give the details of a particular session date, informing us who the date was for, what gear he'd used, what particular problems he'd encountered, how he'd modified the music, and even how much he'd been paid. He also included a lead sheet from the session, usually decorated with his own hand-scribbled notes.

The column gave me an image of Tedesco as a generous raconteur, an intelligent presence with a Buddha-like equanimity. I didn't know at the time that he'd played the opening notes of the Bonanza theme or that he was probably the most recorded guitarist in history, part of the legendary Wrecking Crew, a fluid group made up of perhaps 30 Los Angeles session musicians who played on everything from Phil Spector's "Wall of Sound" hits to Frank Sinatra sessions. If you have any affinity for American pop music from the late '50s through the mid-'70s, you're likely very familiar with their work, if not their names. They probably played your favorite band in the studio. At times, they were The Byrds and The Beach Boys, as well as The Association, The Partridge Family and The Monkees.

The Wrecking Crew

87 Cast: Documentary, with Tommy Tedesco, Hal Blaine, Carol Kaye, Plas Johnson, Bob Bain, Leon Russell, Cher, Lou Adler, Herb Alpert

Director: Denny Tedesco

Rating: PG, for mild language

Running time: 101 minutes

After Tedesco was diagnosed with cancer in 1996, his son Denny set out to tell his story. I saw the resultant documentary, The Wrecking Crew, at the South by Southwest Film Festival in 2008, but I never imagined it would ever make it to the big screen because it contained so many snippets of so many hit songs that the musicians played on. I figured it would cost hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of dollars to license all those hits for the screen. (There's a difference between screening movies at a film festival and exhibiting them in commercial theaters -- a festival license is relatively cheap and easy to obtain, while theatrical rights have to be negotiated.)

Yet somehow Denny (with the help of a Kickstarter campaign) managed to get all those songs cleared and his movie into theaters. And it's a fun, unpretentious and uncritical look back at what were undoubtably some talented people (mostly men, but bassist Carol Kaye emerges as one of the stars) who knocked out hit after hit in their heyday. (At one point drummer Hal Blaine, who was the de facto leader of the group, played on six straight recordings that won the Grammy for Record of the Year.)

There's a lot here that those immersed in the period's music and casual viewers will find arresting. Brian Wilson's genius is reconfirmed, Kaye demonstrates how she souped up the bass line in "The Beat Goes On," and we learn that jazz musicians can learn to love rock 'n' roll when it pays the bills. While the film lacks the inherent drama of 20 Feet From Stardom or Muscle Shoals, similarly themed recent music documentaries that also touched on societal issues (the role of women in the former, racial typecasting in the latter), it's an enjoyable labor of love that nicely complements those films as well as last year's Glen Campbell: I'll Be Me. (Before he became a pop star, Campbell was a crucial member of the outfit.)

In retrospect, it's amazing that the Wrecking Crew held sway as long as they did -- the rise of singer-songwriters and self-contained groups in the late '60s heralded the end of the assembly line hit (though many members of the crew continued working steadily for years).

Tommy Tedesco died in 1997, and since Denny started filming the project six others have passed on. The film is a loving testament to their legacy, which is likely to last so long as human beings have ears.

MovieStyle on 04/24/2015

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