Originally released in 1972, the music documentary Fillmore: The Last Days is finally making its appearance on DVD.  All American Rock ’n’ Roll fans ought to be mighty grateful.

One word of warning before you read further: the film captures perfectly the anger and disillusionment of the era, and it’s a documentary—so four-letter language abounds.  Critically speaking, it’s also tough to say much about that disillusionment and anger without reproducing some of that language; so expect some f-bombs both from the movie and from this review.

For those who don’t know, legendary music promoter and producer Bill Graham operated the San Francisco concert venue The Fillmore West from 1968 to 1971, after having moved from the original Fillmore, which opened in 1966.  The Fillmore, in its various incarnations, launched the careers of Bay-area bands like Jefferson Airplane and The Grateful Dead.  Graham’s impact on the global music scene cannot be underestimated.

Of course, Graham was also well aware of his impact, and became increasingly and indignantly unhappy with bands becoming demanding megastars as the American cult of personality spread from movies and TV to the other arts.  As more money became involved, the business became more of a, well, business rather than a passion—and Graham decided to get out. 

“These groups have gotten too authoritarian,” he complains in the film.  Instead of an open, welcoming, all-you-need-is-love music scene devoted to “the joy of living,” Graham observed a “bitterness set in” as American youth became more and more disenfranchised by developments in war, politics, and a morally bankrupt movement.  “We want more” became the mantra of the generation, and Graham wasn’t willing to capitulate to the demands of stars or fans.

The militancy of the era is on full display in lyrics by Jefferson Airplane.  Included in the documentary—though whether at the Fillmore or not is unclear—is a performance of their “We Can Be Together,” which includes the following incendiary lyrics, sung with venom by Grace Slick:

We are all outlaws in
the eyes of America
In order to survive we
steal cheat lie forge
fuck hide and deal
We are obscene lawless
hideous dangerous dirty
violent and young
But we should be together
…

We are forces of chaos and anarchy
Everything they say we are we are
And we are very
Proud of ourselves
Up against the wall
Up against the wall(motherfucker)
Tear down the walls
Tear down the walls

Fillmore: The Last Days documents Graham’s final week at the Fillmore West.  The camera is there as he works the Graham magic, phone on his ear, hackles up on the ego, selflessness completely checked.  “It’s my party!” he screams into the phone at one point, frustrated to no end by Santana’s management, which keeps stringing Graham noncommittally along until just days before the scheduled (but as yet unannounced) final concert.  “It’s like the invasion of Normandy,” he quips at one point.

Perhaps the sequence that captures the spirit of both the times and Graham the best is an early encounter that Graham has with Mike Wilhelm, former leader of Fillmore regulars The Charlatans, who has come to complain that his new band Loose Gravel is not on the bill.  Graham, knowing that the camera is right there, rather graciously explains that he’s got nothing against Loose Gravel—he just wants to book bands that he’s personally heard perform and knows will put on a good show.  But Wilhelm just digs in, and by the time he’s heard “no” the sixth or seventh time, he’s had enough.  “Fuck you, and thanks for the memories,” he declares as he heads for the stairs.  And Graham explodes.  The camera stays upstairs as Graham chases the sullen Wilhelm out onto the street.  We can only imagine what transpired off-camera.

The musical performances captured for the film are electric, and you can see both what Graham felt was being lost—in the stirring vocals of Lamb and Cold Blood, or in the quirky style of Quicksilver Messenger Service or The Grateful Dead, one band which managed to stay small while going mega—and where the future was headed, as in the musically brilliant but somehow cold closing set from Santana.

If you’ve ever wondered why the label “legendary” got attached to Graham, Fillmore: The Last Days gives you all you need to know.  If you ever wondered how the San Francisco music scene got its rep, you’ll find your answers here, too.

If you want your music—or your life, or your country—safe and sanitized, though, forget it.  Fillmore: The Last Days tells it like it is: profane, ballsy, magical, and glorious.

Fillmore: The Last Days is unrated, but for the upcoming PBS broadcasts has been rated TV-PG.  Given that it’s a documentary, that might be defensible—especially as the language is no worse than what you might hear on an elementary-school playground.  But the review above should give you a good sense of what to expect.

Courtesy of a national publicist, Greg screened a promotional DVD of Fillmore: The Last Days.