The version I just watched was the cinema print which I hadn't seen since 1974 at the maximum 79 DVD minutes and is the version to watch if possible, but my opinion remains the same as it was then. How could 3 slightly odd and weedy 1960's British blokes produce such an incredible noise, both derivative and still sounding futuristic at the same time. How our naked ears were tortured, with pleasure! Such a sound and the skill that went with it came from out of blue(s) - can you imagine a band like Cream flourishing in 1963?
Additionally, can you imagine a band like Cream, even if American being allowed to flourish to such an extent by the record industry now?
The music may have been superb, but the documentary narration was dated and cringe-worthy in 1974 - probably in 1969 when it was made too - and totally irritates and detracts from the rest of it. How our naked ears were tortured, with embarrassment! The rest of it shows a three piece band playing intelligent and loud rock music for a huge intelligent and loud crowd in the Albert Hall and will have to represent the irrefutable evidence for future generations of all this happening in the UK in the 1960's: it was a different world. My marks are for the music of Eric Clapton, Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker only and definitely not for Tony Palmer's laughably deferential and puerile commentary.
Additionally, can you imagine a band like Cream, even if American being allowed to flourish to such an extent by the record industry now?
The music may have been superb, but the documentary narration was dated and cringe-worthy in 1974 - probably in 1969 when it was made too - and totally irritates and detracts from the rest of it. How our naked ears were tortured, with embarrassment! The rest of it shows a three piece band playing intelligent and loud rock music for a huge intelligent and loud crowd in the Albert Hall and will have to represent the irrefutable evidence for future generations of all this happening in the UK in the 1960's: it was a different world. My marks are for the music of Eric Clapton, Jack Bruce and Ginger Baker only and definitely not for Tony Palmer's laughably deferential and puerile commentary.