Echo in the Canyon

If I hadn't read so many rave reviews I might not have been disappointed. But I did, and I was. The only person who shoud be unabashedly in love with this movie is John Hall.

Put it this way. If you're the sort of person who believes older is always better and the sequel never equals the original, Echo In The Canyon will not change your mind.

The celebrity cast speaks for itself. There is the heartbreaking charm of Tom Petty and suprising late in life wisdom from David Crosby. But the film seems to be about a group of young performers trying to capture what it was like, based in part on the movie Model Shop. Seriously. It could be worse; someday people will study City Of Industry or Miracle Mile as realistic documents of what L.A. was like.

There are brief snippets of vintage performances and some are thrilling. Like Buffalo Springfield doing a seque from For What It's Worth to Mr. Soul. But the movie works it's way toward a tribute concert and unfortunately, none of the rehearsals or performances can match, let alone improve on, the originals. And that makes the whole thing kind of melancholy.

I saw the film this past Saturday night and thought it was outstanding. It put many songs from the 60s into their proper context in terms of development, highlighting the cross-collaborative efforts between bands that were in the canyon scene during that time, as well as further afield, primarily in the UK, to which I wasn't fully aware of the extent.

The film also shows the impact and influence that this particular music scene has had on contemporary musical artists, illustrated by renditions of many of the songs from that window in time by a particular stable of modern-day musicians at a show at Downtown LA's Orpheum Theatre in October of 2015. While I enjoyed seeing the highlights of that show in the film, it felt like they focused on that concert a little too much during the film's 90-minute runtime. There's also the not so subtle implication that these artists are the direct descendants of that culture and should be revered accordingly. While I like many of the artists depicted on-screen, the impact of the music made in, or inspired by, the late-1960s Laurel Canyon scene goes far beyond the indie/alt rock/pop genres. It would have been nice to have seen that acknowledged. That's my only real complaint with the film, and a relatively minor one at that.

All-in-all, I'm pleased that the filmmakers made the efforts that they did, interviewing many of the artists from that era that are still alive today, and visiting several of the recording studios that will likely be consumed in full by L.A.'s cutthroat real estate market in favor of redevelopment. When those days inevitably arrive, I'm hoping that some rich music lover(s) will have the foresight to purchase and digitally preserve them, even if they have to be relocated, or ultimately replicated, to another location...perhaps in the form of a "Music Studio Museum" in the Capitol Records Building, or in/with some other venue/institution of a similar stature, such as the Grammy Museum.

I enjoyed the film immensely and highly recommend it.

Wow... this film is a must-see for musicologists familiar with the Laurel Canyon scene of the '60s. Terrific interviews w/key players during that time. But... I think a bit less Jakob Dylan and newbies would have done. I suppose his being Exec Producer on the film necessitated his being in too many scenes, annoyingly nodding knowingly at comments.... that is, one supposes, the curse of being the offspring of the Great One. I am also wondering why Mama Cass barely got mentioned and Joni Mitchell was completely omitted. Was it due to disparaging remarks Joni made about pere Dylan a few years ago? Would that this film had been an eight-part comprehensive series on Netflix.

Film was interesting strictly from an anecdotal point of view. Some interesting tidbits, archival footage and new versions of the old songs. Jakob Dylan was too fawning and not enough probing with his questions and the group session with Beck, Regina Spektor and Cat Power added nothing to the proceedings. As a result the doc lost some of it's focus at time. Also, can someone tell me how the song 12:30 (Young Girls Coming To the Canyon)! was not included either in the film or over the closing credits. I mean, come on!

I saw this film yesterday in Santa Barbara. After telling some guy to turn off his cellphone. Never saw the little theater so crowded. The film was a spoonful of Laurel Canyon music honey when there is so much more to tell. Music is personal. Yesterday I finished writing a song out in the trees and hills of Gaviota on my 12 string guitar. The song is called "Tom Petty's Gone." A friend picked me up and we had a picnic on the road to where Jackson Browne lives. We were then headed into town to see "Echo In the Canyon." A film reveals the intent of the story, the viewer then likes it or not. Crosby, Stills, Nash. Brian Wilson. Roger McGuinn and others were sharing stories. Absent were Neil Young, Joni Mitchell and other untold tales. This morning I woke up feeling what the film drove home for me. What happened to us ? Many of us were open and the music was the reflection of that beautiful spirit. People today are what happened to them. Peace and love was not a game for me. Miracles happen when we listen and talk to one another. So at the end of the film, it was dedicated to Tom Petty. While I was finishing my song yesterday, I wondered what Mike Campbell would do with the lead guitar part. He's a beautiful person, very kind. But, I can't make that phone call since I am not connected. I laughed thinking if I went to David Crosby's house and asked him to listen to the song, would he invite me in? Joan Baez's father picked me up hitchhiking once and asked me to play my guitar. I said no. He drops me off by Stanford University and says, "Young man, until you learn to appreciate the art for the art itself, it doesn't matter if two people, or two thousand people clap for you." True wisdom, but I wish you could hear my song. I felt like I lost a brother when Tom died. Keep on keepin on.