It Might Get Loud

It Might Get Loud, a documentary about the beginnings of three prolific guitarists and how they use their instrument—Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White—won me over and finally showed me that attraction people have to rock 'n roll. These dudes are badass. Directed by Davis Guggenheim, he of The Inconvenient Truth as well as a slew of great television show credits, the story not only uses historical footage and interviews with the trio separately, but also puts them in the same room, with a plethora of their own axes, to converse, both verbally and rhythmically. Watching them play a song together is a real treat, seeing the pure joy they have of making music, catching a glimpse at the boyish wonder they have for each other, constantly looking to see what the others are doing, and comparing their styles. Page has not lost a step as he grooves and moves the entire time he is playing, lips pursing and expanding, the music taking control of his body; The Edge is the consummate professional, stoic concentration, standing straight and playing with determination; and White sits or stands casually and at ease, the guitar high and close, showing a bluegrass feel just like his voice and chords.

You may be wondering—as I did before going in too—what White is doing in this mix. Page produced the film, he got the group together to play, and so he must have seen something in the youngster. Maybe he needed juxtaposition with The Edge, a stripped down raw sound against the U2 man's heavy use of effects and computers, (when you hear the actual chords he plays without the digital enhancements, you won't believe it). Either way, it does not take long to see that the driving force of The White Stripes, The Raconteurs, and The Dead Weather belongs. The film does open up to him making a guitar out of a Coke bottle, plank of wood, and a single string after all. Who needs to buy a guitar? And his knowledge of the craft is extensive, with a childhood story that goes against odds to have gotten to the point he is at today. The youngest of ten children, never wanting to play the guitar, apprenticing at an upholstery shop, and having to force his sister to go on stage with him for their first gig, it all began with the exposure to a song by Son House, his favorite piece of music still to this day.

We know about Page and his days in the Yardbirds before Led Zeppelin. Heck, some may even know he was a session guitarist before that, playing on anything that came his way before finally needing to get out and create his own sound, to use a loud crescendo without recourse. However, did you know that The Edge would never have met Bono and company, U2 may never have been, if not for a flyer on his school's cork board looking to start a band? The foursome from Ireland were, admittedly, not that good at the start, but they continued on, finding their voice and politics as the years went. Only when Bono told him to take some time off and experiment by himself did he discover he could write. One may think these superpowers of rock music just got together and the rest was history, but no, they all had their "breastfeeding" moments, as captioned in the movie, instances where they had to work and keep going. It's a world based on hard work, no matter what your occupation, to resonate and reach the masses means earning it.

No matter how enthralling the background stories and early footage of the three—through video, stills, whatever they had available to share—it is the electricity seeing the trio together that caught my attention. I'd love to see the unedited reels of just that meeting in January of 2008. What is shown is wonderful, but too brief. Sure, the moments of jamming are wonderful, but the conversations are always cut short. I wanted to see them pick each other's brains. You get a little of that with Page asking The Edge if he was sure the one note was supposed to be a C, or when The Edge relays to the others during the credits that he had been playing the wrong note the whole time they covered a song, but that's just correcting each other and having fun. There had to have been questions like, "how did you do that?" or "how was it doing that?" or even "how high were you when you wrote that?" Maybe the DVD culls some of those moments; it would be well worth the purchase I'm sure.

It's a rare thing to see artists interviewing artists, or just being in close proximity and watching what occurs. The more straightforward documentary parts are even narrated by them alone; only a few instances bring in an outside source, presumably Guggenheim, to pass on a query. One of the most memorable scenes is just Page in his home library full of vinyl, wall to wall. He takes a 7" out of its sleeve and puts in on the player so he can show us the power of "Rumble," a rock instrumental by Link Wray. The legend just stands in front of the camera giggling like a little boy, face full of unadulterated joy. He starts to mimic the hand movements, playing air guitar to the song, as he explains the distortion progression as the song continues on. We are experiencing a piece of history filmed live, watching one of the greatest guitarists on the planet show his cards and lift the curtain to what inspired him. And that is what these three men are: inspirations. They touch people young and old, hit them emotionally and create change, either large or small. They are living the dream and looking cool doing it.

As intriuged as I was with the idea of this film, the trio of guitar players cast together looked a little odd.... at least on paper anyways. One is a classic rock legend, the other is a very individualistic (and highly influential) sonic craftsmen and the last is a white kid from Detroit heavily influenced by black blues and the archaic recording techniques of yesteryear. On one hand, it makes sense to represent the very different approaches that all 3 have become synonymous with, but on the other hand it feels slightly unfair to team up two blues influenced guys with another player whose style relies on his manipulating and processing of sound to come up with what is essentially a 'less is more' approach. That contrast may have just been what the director was seeking, but it didn't stop me feeling sorry for The Edge when Jack and Jimmy are playing dirty slide on Zep's 'In My Time Of Dying' while The Edge stands there looking a bit lost. But then, Jimmy Page probably feels the same way when Jack and Edge are trying to get him to sing a harmony part in 'The Weight' and he protests that he "Cant sing, sorry!". Jack White, while not being directly humbled on camera, must nevertheless be aware of the immense legacies that the other two guitar players have left behind them while he is still very much carving a name for himself. He comes across well though - cocky and self-assured without being arrogant. His preference for the bare-bone expressionism of what rock n roll has been, and should still be, was clearly very heartfelt and honest. There are lots of great moments to behold in this film, even if it does feel ready to finish about 20 minutes before it actually does. Jimmy Page going giddy with excitement whilst listening to Link Wray's 'Rumble' in his front room or the looks on Jack and Edge's faces when he launches into the seminal 'Whole Lotta Love' riff are just two great moments. In truth, Jimmy Page steals the show - he's just such a strong personality when compared to the politely spoken Edge or eager to impress White. Also, seeing as both Page and White are coming at the guitar from the same kind of school of black roots music, perhaps instead of having White fly the flag for the contemporary guitar player, someone like Thurston Moore would've been a more daring and interesting choice? It's a tough call.

Highly recommended for fans of rock music and the electric guitar.

Despite his deeply silly stage name, I've always been a fan of The Edge, and spent what felt like a good part of my youth trying to figure out his riffs. So it was a revelation to me to see him switch off his effects and make fun of how banal his "original" (un-enhanced) riffs really are. In another scene he points to a concrete platform on his former school where he and what was to become U2 first performed; he casually remarks "I was standing on that side" and then it dawns upon him "... and that's been my side ever since." There are a lot of quiet but magic moments like that in this documentary, that make it so captivating.

I also found the segments on Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page fascinating. When he started out, people didn't yet make a living as rock stars (I remember a BBC session when Led Zeppelin's members were asked what they were "really" doing). Wild boy Jimmy Page got his first guitar by accident, because somebody'd left it behind in the house his family was moving into, and later he had a pretty mundane career as a session musician, where he was playing stuff nobody'd dream of associating with him today.

To me, the odd one out was Jack White. Certainly a good musician, a great specimen of a still relatively young guitarist, but he seemed to me rather grandiose, egocentric and attention-grabbing, his self-stylisation as a white bluesman with tie and pork-pie hat was just plain silly, and his attitude "I don't play big-name guitars but cheap junk and it's still great music" started to grate after a while.

The movie was best when it was just following and listening to the guitarreros. The segments when they are supposed to intimately discuss guitarish matters and "just forget that the camera's even there" don't work so well. There are lots of cute design ideas which liven up the movie and keep it together. The movie works less well when it tries to summarise and explain; a particular gaffe was when The Edge complains about the self-indulgent guitar solos of the 1970ies, and the movie ignores the blatant fact that self-indulgent soloist #1 at the time was none other than Jimmy Page.

You know who was really missing from this movie? The late, great Les Paul. I would have loved to be able listen to his side of the story.

Finally, I took a lot of heart from the final scene when all three musical heavies play The Band's "The Weight" together -- and it doesn't sound that convincing. Just like when I was jamming with my mates!

If you love rock music you must see this film. I cannot describe how much I enjoyed it. It chronicles how each of the artists first discovered the music they loved (blues, rock and/or punk, depending on the era), began playing the guitar, and developed their own styles. Page strove to explore as many musical possibilities with his guitar as he could, White searches for authenticity, and the Edge can't stop tinkering to find the perfect sound.

The filmmaker, discreetly off camera, interviews them individually in the places where they made music and found inspiration. Then he films their encounter and jam session. Seeing these great artists improvising together is priceless. Clips from classic footage of Led Zeppelin and U2 concerts, footage from White's various performances, and footage of other performances from the guitarists' early years and also of the artists who influenced them, are interspersed. The artists also discuss some of the sources of their inspiration and their creative process. There are a few really funny and telling moments. Don't miss it.

I suppose I'm a little biased when it comes to talking about documentaries about music, more so when it comes to documentaries about rock. I am just a complete sucker for them. I love rock + I love cinema = I love "rockumentaries" – even when is not a masterpiece. So it was pretty obvious that I was going to love It Might Get Loud (Davis Guggenheim, 2008). And I did. I did even though the way the film is put together –divided in chapters – doesn't really work for me and despite the fact that I think it doesn't go deep in the subjects that matter the most nor shows the relationship built between the three characters right until the end and very briefly.

Anyway, I did love it and here is why: The official synopsis is "A documentary on the electric guitar from the point of view of three significant rock musicians: the Edge, Jimmy Page and Jack White". I know, I KNOW. The choice of the characters is controversial. Besides Jimmy Page, who is unanimity, The Edge and Jack White are not the guitarist that come to mind when most people think about the greatest of their kind - which you sort of expect and want when you think about a documentary about the electric guitar. But I liked the choices, they are bold and you have to bear in mind that Jimmy Page is the executive producer, so they were pretty much his choices. Then, like the synopsis points out, this is more about different perspectives and it is not about great guitarist, but about the guitar. So, the Edge and Jack White end up being perfect. Their approach to the guitar couldn't be more different.

Jack White is more of a purist. He likes the basic sounds of the guitars, he doesn't mess with it that much. He doesn't even really care if the guitar is broken or out of tune. Right at the other corner, creating an opposition, there is The Edge. He loooves the special effects, distortions, pedals and everything else that technology can do to the sound of a guitar. Finally, in the middle, balancing things out, you find one of the Gods: Jimmy Page (who I don't think needs any sort of introduction even to people who don't like rock). And it all works. It works not only because the script is neatly put together, weighing and balancing the differences, but because somewhere around the beginning of the film something becomes very clear: despite being about the guitar and despite being very different men from different times of the rock history, they share their love for music and their desire to change the world through it. So, the film becomes much more about music and passion and there is no way you can be immune and dislike it.