Doc Watch: Deep Tracks

Back in the Boomer heyday ... 

WBCN AND THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION (B) - This is a thoroughly researched dive into the early days of free-form FM radio, focusing on the legendary Boston station that was founded in March 1968. A bounty of archival footage and soundchecks bring the hippie era back to life. A parade of graybeards look back fondly on their days striving to change the world.

At a full two hours, this one is a commitment, but director Bill Lichtenstein (a former newscaster at the station) covers a lot of ground here -- not only the political turmoil of the era but also the changing social dynamics, including the emergence of women's liberation and gay rights. The shambolic nature of this ragtag group of long-hairs is celebrated through actual footage and glinty-eyed reminiscences of the former DJs and newscasters. 

The station's founder, Ray Riepen, was a square who came to Boston to pursue a master's degree at Harvard Law, and he ended up opening the Tea Party music club and then the radio station, as an outlet for album music that never got played on Top 40 radio at the time. He and others meticulously recount the founding of the station and its quick gain in popularity among the counter-culture in the Boston area.

Peter Wolf, later of J. Geils Band fame, was a DJ, and Bruce Springsteen made his first-ever radio appearance on WBCN. Jane Fonda phoned in reports from the Watergate hearings, and Patti Smith famously swore up a storm on a live concert broad cast. Noam Chomsky appears here as a fan. This is all classic Baby Boomer nostalgia, but Lichtenstein reveals the pertinent history of shaggy-dog community radio that served as the internet of its day.

GORDON LIGHTFOOT: IF YOU COULD READ MY MIND (C) - Not sure this one is necessary, but even if you have a mild interest in the '70s music scene, this friendly profile of the Canadian singer-songwriter tosses a few nuggets that provide entertainment for an hour and a half. 

Lightfoot, pushing 80, looks back on his life, which, despite the adult-contemporary lilt of his story songs, belies a true rock 'n' roll bad-boy past of drugs, booze and infidelity, most of which gets winked at as youthful indiscretions. There is surprisingly bountiful footage of a young Lightfoot in his '60s folkie days and backstage during the '70s.

The filmmakers, for no apparent reason, toy with the timeline, circling back several times back to the beginning of Lightfoot's career. We learn of the friendship and admiration he earned from Bob Dylan, and we get insight into Lightfoot's writing style that was admired by a wide range of artists who covered his hits. Lightfoot himself comes across as a stereotypically polite and humble Canadian who had his day in the sun and doesn't weigh himself down with regrets for his rock-star behavior, perhaps having atoned long ago. (And, also for no reason, another documentary uses Alec Baldwin as a random talking head.)

BONUS TRACKS

We get a snippet of the Nazz's "Open My Eyes" in the WBCN documentary:

And my favorite Gordon Lightfoot song is "Sundown," his No. 1 from 1974: