Last Days Here

I saw Robert Oscar Liebling and Pentagram in Socorro, New Mexico in 1974 -- just before I separated from the military. They'd boarded a bus somewhere in Pennsylvania headed for Secaucus, New Jersey, but a couple of them apparently were ticket-impaired so they all ended up in Socorro. Which worked out for me and the lads as we were based nearby and the sergeant announced their show at morning roll-call.

They played Tito's Tortilla Station in Socorro, which sounds funky but was actually a nice little restaurant with decent acoustics. A great show, but NOTHING like Bobby's final performance in the documentary. Dood it moved me to tears, to laughter, even did some snickering. His lyrics sunk into my forehead like a rock outta the hand of King David. And I haven't been free of those haunting, marvelous verses since. Nor of the occasional headache.

Robert Oscar Liebling was, clearly, the most overlooked major talent in American music, and this no-punches-pulled documentary makes mockery of the critics and music halls who fail to book Robert in, who thought him washed-up and just another crackshack. Instead, as the final performance showed, Robert had EVOLVED so far ahead of them that they cannot fathom his generous and hallowed offerings. But the critics, and club owners, and corporations shall be put to shame in the future, when the songwriting and performing wonders of Robert Oscar Liebling finally . . . finally are committed to Eternity, so that others in their own time may come upon his unique music, and be reborn in their own hope of triumph over a cruel world and against tremendous odds.

Inspiring documentary. We love you Bobby! Middle-finger forever baby! Thank you Robert! You'll never know exactly how much you've given us. I mean, how could you. You still have to count your fingers and toes.

But, all good. All good. The music still shines!

I'm not into heavy Metal music but I couldn't tear my eyes away from this. A bit like a car wreck, it's harrowing yet hopeful as we watch former Pentagram frontman Bobby Liebling battle addiction, depression, disappointment and heartbreak while attempting a late (late) career comeback. Bobby and his band actually never got a contract back in the day as he was an addict even at their beginnings.

When we join him he's living in his aged parents basement and doing crack and meth continuously. He looks ancient, skinny and close to death. One of his fans tries to help him get a new contract and kick a lifelong habit.

This is where the documentary surprised me, watching Bobby clean up and get a new (young) girlfriend and head out on the road, touring. She describes him as being developmentally stunted, and its true its like he was still living in the late 70's because he's been high for so long. There is some suspense involved as you keep wondering if he will make it or not. 04.28.14

It's 2022 and I randomly came upon upon this documentary and hit play without actually knowing what it was about The minute he pulled that Pentagram album I stood up , I was standing there 4 feet from the television for most of this. The year was 1983ish for me, I had access to albums , my parents being collectors, my dad being a DJ and my uncle in the entertainment industry . Metal however, was my passion and happening upon this very record changed the course of my endeavors . Up to that point I had the sense that good music would certainly be found in the studio or in the massive collection in our home. At the time rap and metal were newer , still ,in retrospect a decent amount came through out household . Sitting there, listening to my record haul that day , I had a very deep sense of the world being unfair and was more upset than excited to learn that there was music out there beyond what was accessible ( even to me) much of the documentary tells a story of what could have been the collective experiences of a generation however this individual.... Typically I keep my reviews and personal experience separate but this documentary , I .... I shouldn't give spoilers so that's it. Thank you.

Many musicians I've met over the years have proudly proclaimed "Music is all I have man, it's all I know". But what happens when the years pass by, the success is few and far between and the musician is reduced to a withered husk waxing nostalgia? After a while, that declaration becomes a sad one, and it leaves said person in a questionable state. Last Days Here is an intense and unflinching look at the life of Bobby Liebling, lead singer for underground doom metal legends Pentagram. For many this will feel familiar, either like an episode of the reality show Intervention or along the lines of "from obscurity to greatness" rockumentaries, but there's something else to it. It's extremely raw.

Last Days Here will inevitably draw comparisons to Anvil: The Story of Anvil, but there are major differences. First and foremost, unlike Anvil, Pentagram was actually a good band in their day. Anvil were lauded by some as being pioneers of thrash metal of sorts, but watching that film it became apparent that the reason they never made it big was simply that they weren't very good, and that their music was far too cheesy and badly dated to be taken seriously. Bobby Liebling actually had considerable songwriting skills and came very close to securing a deal with Columbia Records. I could easily see old Pentagram songs such as "Forever My Queen" and "Wheel of Fortune" being played on classic rock radio stations alongside Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin and Deep Purple. Second, while the people in Anvil were struggling, they were not in the state that Liebling was. And third, The Story of Anvil turned out to be a rather dishonest film in terms of the continuity editing, whereas Last Days Here plays out from start to finish, and the stakes are much higher.

After decades of drug abuse and failure, Bobby spends his days consuming crack, heroin and whatever else in his parent's basement in rural Maryland. He's an awful sight, looking just as ghastly as the ghouls he sings about in his songs. His parents, though well meaning, are profoundly naive and gutless. He has no real friends left. But then we meet Sean "Pellet" Pelletier, a die hard music fan and employee of the highly respected record label, Relapse Records. Pellet is the secondary protagonist of this story, a die hard fanboy who worships Pentagram and wants to share their music with the world. He becomes Bobby's manager, friend and number one supporter. For the duration of the film, Pellet does his best to wrangle Bobby into some kind of productivity of sorts, but it's an EXTREMELY bumpy ride.

What makes this documentary compelling is the position the viewer is put in while watching Bobby. It's strange, because most of the time you don't really feel sorry for him. He is his own worst enemy and is the main saboteur of Pentagram's success. He has burned countless bridges, destroyed many relationships, ruined promising opportunities of major label deals and has ripped a lot of people off. There's no real back story of childhood abuse or any personal tragedy to warrant his self-destructive lifestyle and arrogant behavior. Indeed, if anything his family is too supportive of him and are enablers of his addiction. What makes you believe in Bobby is the fact that Pellet believes in him. In many ways Last Days Here is about an unusual friendship between musician and fan rather than a narrative of a rocker's resurrection.

Things get more intriguing when Bobby has a romance with a very attractive 20 something music fan named Hallie. It presents both a boon to his existence and a challenge to Pellet's efforts to get him on the right track.

As a Washington DC native, I had never heard of bands like Pentagram or the Obsessed growing up. To me DC was all about hardcore punk and Go Go. But today, people of all ages are hungry again for solid heavy rock, and a lot of obscure bands are finally seeing their dues. Bobby may have been a jerk and junkie for most of his life but his art does stand on its own and redemption appears possible. Last Days Here is often not easy to watch, but it has its rewards.

I am not a fan of Pentagram, I have barely heard of them. However, I barely heard of Anthrax and thought that documentary was superb. That film was about a band soldiering on, ad midst a mostly apathetic public. This is the story of a broken wreck of a man named Bobby Liebling, someone who actually is doing drugs on film. Thankfully, he seems more coherent as the film goes on, to the point where you can understand him. Even if you think of him as a drug addled loser (this is not disrespect, watch the film), you want him to clean up and succeed. This film at first had no meaning to me, but it is the story of a second act. another chance. The best thing about the film are the interviews, as they are not with musical legends, but people who love him. You can see their frustration, but you also see the caring. I wish him well. The film is good, not in the echelon of the Anthrax and Rush documentaries, but worth watching.