Review: Eddie Piller's 'Clean Living Under Difficult Circumstances: A Life in Mod'

Eddie Piller is a big name in certain nattily attired, musically minded circles. He is the founder of Acid Jazz Records, a musical tastemaker who lends his name to mod and power pop compilations, and a renowned second-generation mod. So when I saw that he had a book coming along that cribbed its title from Mod-founder Pete Meaden's most famous description of his cult--clean living under difficult circumstances--I assumed it would be a general history of modernism. 

Review: 'Fashion in the 1960s'

The 1960s were not always rich in substance (welcome to Gilligan’s Island!), but the decade’s style was often unimpeachable. Before frumpy hippie non-fashions took over toward the end of the sixties, sharp lines, vivid colors, eccentric materials, and wild op-art patterns defined the decade. The sixties were also very notable for making a place for men on the runway. It seems like we’ve been shut out of genuinely exciting fashions ever since.

Review: 'Millions Like Us: The Story of the Mod Revival 1977-1989'

Paul Weller’s discovery of My Generation was a decisive event for a lot of late-seventies British kids. It was what sparked his obsession with long-dead Mod culture and inspired him to bring its style and sounds back from the dead with his own band, The Jam. That great group that fused the mid-sixties sounds of The Who and Small Faces with the contemporary speed and aggression of punk inspired a whole lot of other kids to kick their own bands into gear. By 1979, the U.K. scene was flooded with bands that fobbed off punk’s tattered fashions and nihilistic attitude for sharp clobber and messages of youthful unity.

Review: 'The A to Z of Mod'

Mod culture was defined by rigorous rules of style and musical tastes. Razor sharp mohair suits were donned for shimmying all night to the very latest Northern soul records while pilled to the clouds on bennies and dexys. Mod enthusiasts Paolo Hewitt and Mark Baxter realize Mod is a lot more elastic than that. In The A to Z of Mod, the writers both pay reverence to the strictures of the pioneer modernists and acknowledge how much the culture has changed throughout the ensuing decades. Archetypal Modernalia (A is for The Action! R is for “Ready, Steady, Go!” S is for The Scooter!) is filed amongst less typical entries (F is for Martin Freeman! G is for Glam and Pub Rock! Y is for The Young Disciples!). The A to Z of Mod redefines Modernism while remaining true to its essence by way of slick design. Published by Prestel, it’s a handy volume busting with fab full color photos and smashing pop art flourishes. Plus it’s compact enough to fit right in the pocket of your Parka.

April 7, 2010: Psychobabble recommends ‘Small Faces: All or Nothing 1965-1968’

A few days ago I reported that Reelin’ in the Years Productions had released a retrospective DVD called Small Faces: All or Nothing, 1965-1968 as part of their “British Invasion” series. As the DVD cover trumpets “27 Complete Performances,” I was expecting a basic performance compilation. However, this is a complete and highly illuminating documentary about a group whose story is not nearly as oft-told as those of The Beatles, The Stones, The Who, or a number of other British Invasion vets. The performances, which can be viewed on their own, serve as leaping-off points to discuss the major beats of the band’s career. All five Small Faces (that includes keyboardist/guitarist Jimmy Winston, who was only around for their earliest recordings) tell their own story uninterrupted by superfluous narration. They talk about everything from their stint as Mods to drugs to signing on with Andrew Oldham’s Immediate Records to inter-band and managerial conflicts to their legendary dandyism, which is complimented by delightful footage of the band shopping on Carnaby Street.

The bulk of the interview footage belongs to the two surviving Small Faces that spent the most time in the group: an amiable Kenney Jones and a smiley, yet rather bitter, Ian McLagan. The keyboardist takes issue with a lot of his band’s output, expressing horror over having released songs as pop as “Hey Girl”, as pro-drugs as “Here Come the Nice”, as “anti-education” as “Itchycoo Park”, as comedic as “Lazy Sunday”, and as lightweight as “The Universal”. The footage of these tracks completely contradicts McLagan’s gripes. These are Brit Pop and Rock classics, and the sound here is crisp and powerful despite the age of these clips. Several of them are 100% live and find the Faces in fiery form. The “Happiness Stan” suite from Side B of Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake, complete with Stanley Unwin’s narration, is here in its entirety from an appearance on the British TV show “Colour Me Pop”. Though the music is canned, Steve Marriott and Ronnie Lane sing along live and are as playful and watchable as ever. I have a bootleg of this performance, which looks like a seventh generation Betamax dub. On the Reelin’ in the Years disc, it’s pristine. I was almost inspired to toss my bootleg out the window until I remembered that it also contains some cracking footage of The Move from “Colour Me Pop”. But if Reelin’ in the Years ever releases a Move documentary as part of its British Invasion series, and you happen to be passing my apartment, be alert because you might get beaned.

Additional thoughts:
• The disc includes a lovely, full-color, 22-page booklet with track-by-track notes—a real rarity these days!
• Possible DVD feature of the year: subtitles… which finally reveal Stanley Unwin’s exact words during the Happiness Stan saga.
• Pete Townshend and Keith Moon can be seen grooving along to the performance of “Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake” on French TV’s “Surprise Party”. They're sitting on the floor behind Kenney Jones, who, of course, joined The Who after Moon's death.
• A 1984 interview with Steve Marriott and Stanley Unwin conducted by the president of the Banarama fan club? Amazing!
• Steve Marriott may be the all-time least-convincing lip-syncher.