In June 1988, Depeche Mode took their stadium techno roadshow to ground-breaking heights by filling the 65,000-capacity Pasadena Rose Bowl near LA. Captured by the legendary rock-doc maestro DA Pennebaker and his long-term partner Chris Hegedus, the show became a fine concert film, incorporating reality TV-style coverage of fans travelling to the gig. Repackaged with extra footage, audio commentaries and updated interviews, it's a handsome historical record of Wagnerian electro-pop and hair gel abuse.
Low-key Argentinian road movie of sorts from director Carlos Sorin. A lost dog provides the impetus for an old man to amble off on a slow journey: he's not really looking for doggie, he's hunting meaning and a decent way to die. New friends shuffle about and there's much sentiment which would be panned if this was a Hollywood flick.
Set fire to anything. Set fire to the air," urged John Cale at the beginning of Music For A New Society. That 1982 masterpiece was the evisceration of a man whose fractured psyche was mirrored perfectly by songs arranged in jagged, improvisatory style; a knife held at the throat of sweetness. Now he reappears with his first album of songs for seven years, and his finest album in any genre for over two decades.
With untenable Leone motifs and broad comedy caricatures, this final part of Shane Meadows' "Midlands Trilogy" (after Twenty-Four Seven and A Room For Romeo Brass) is a disappointment. Robert Carlyle is solid as the Glaswegian rogue determined to win back ex-partner Shirley Henderson. Yet, despite a re-shot 'dramatic' ending, it feels slight.
Given the parlous state of contemporary jazz singing (Diana Krall? Elvis, how could you?), Lea DeLaria, a butch dyke from St Louis with a dirty mouth and a deliciously wicked sense of humour, is all the more remarkable. Growing up with jazz in her veins, she was previously best known as a comic (she's also been a Broadway star), but singing is clearly her vocation.
