Even though Cocksucker Blues, Robert Frank’s legendary film of the Rolling Stones circa 1972, is routinely referred to as a “documentary,” that’s not quite accurate. Frank himself tips his hand right in the opening moments: “Except for the musical numbers the events depicted in this are fictitious. No representation of actual persons and events is intended.” Of course, this statement may be after-the-fact ass-covering, due to the various illegal activities taking place on-camera in Cocksucker Blues. But i think it’s a little more than that. Frank’s film isn’t meant to be taken as this-is-what-happened-i-just-filmed-it experience of the Stone and their Exile On Main Street-era milieu. It’s more of a dreamscape. Or maybe a “sleaze-scape”? Whatever you want to call it, guitarist Chris Forsyth‘s alternate soundtrack to Cocksucker‘s first ten minutes enhances the morphine-drip, dreamy qualities of the footage, while retaining the menacing pulse that defined the Stones during the early 70s. Sublime and terrifying all at once. words/ t wilcox
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Rad
post the rest pleeeaaaaase.
The new “alternate soundtrack” is TERRIBLE!
A complete wank!