Dead End Drive-In: Now Showing – ‘Attack of Life: The Bang Tango Movie’
Written by Gaz Tidey
Saturday, 13 February 2016 04:00
‘Attack of Life: The Bang Tango Movie’ (2015)
So, I found myself watching the feature-length documentary dedicated to the career of woulda coulda shoulda-beens, Bang Tango, in the same week that I winced through the BBC-sanctioned Guns N’ Roses film, ‘The Most Dangerous Band In The World’. One of these films is a bloated, oft-misguided thing that has had money thrown at it, the other a passionate project that ultimately resulted in failure, almost perfectly summing up the gulf of both success and subsequent acceptance afforded both of the vintage U.S. bands in the process – guess which one I preferred?
‘Attack of Life’ filmmaker Drew Fortier is now a member of Bang Tango. Sounds like his decision to make a documentary based on the indefatigable L.A. band worked out great, right? Wrong. Issues over the clearing of music rights and the money that would have been involved in eventually doing so intimated that his film may never have officially seen the light of day so, after working for four years on the project, Fortier put his art before commerce and (with the permission of UMG) uploaded the documentary in its entirety to YouTube. How long it stays there is debatable, so catch it while you can.
If you’re simply a fan of music documentaries then you may just see another one of those films about a promising band unfurling due to the usual trappings of success; if you’re a Bang Tango fan, however, then there are things in Fortier’s film that will stick with you. Some will anger you, granted, some will have you nodding in agreement then quickly shaking your head in despair, but ultimately you will avert your eyes after 83 minutes stoked that somebody took the time to make an honest critique of Bang Tango’s journey from obscurity to MTV to relative obscurity again.
I didn’t need a feature-length doc, however, to answer the question “Why wasn’t Bang Tango more well known?” This was a band that had a seductive intelligence to its sound in the late eighties, fuelled by amazing bass lines and an alternative dark pop aesthetic, that got lumped in with the Sunset Strip hair metal bands and their party-hardy ways and cookie-cutter cheesy anthems. When, finally, music went back to basics, stripped away the gloss from its oily hide and embraced the alternative, Bang Tango, again, got labelled with the quickly archaic cock rock bands when it should have had its alt. sensibilities and edge amped up by a visionary in the music business. Sadly, there are/were none.
Bang Tango’s debut release, 1989’s ‘Live Injection’, was an important record to teenage me, so much so that I got the heart logo painted onto my leather jacket, almost recreating the cover art a bazillion miles away from where this happening band were knocking out cool Hanoi Rocks covers and sounding like they had a bass player who took the John Taylor approach to playing four strings to another darkly mysterious planet. That my glorious introduction to Bang Tango was relegated to almost a by-line in the documentary disappointed, but the decision to centre attention on debut album, ‘Psycho Café’, seemed appropriate. That frontman Joe Lesté decided to pass on the question about Beautiful Creatures – that great band sticking out like a sore thumb in the Ozzfest times as much as Bang Tango did in 1989 – disappointed also, but to have just a couple of gripes about a film that tries to cover a quarter of a century in under an hour and a half is wholly acceptable.
No, the real disappointments, initially, in Fortier’s film are those fashioned by filthy lucre-hungry record labels who simply mismanaged the entire career of Bang Tango. The band had something, they knew that, but they just didn’t know what to do with it. The rush of immediate success that the band experienced differs from the slog of other bands – I’m immediately thinking of the years of club gigs documented in the fantastic ‘We Are Twisted Fucking Sister’ documentary (Dee Snider’s voiceover actually introduces ‘Attack of Life’) – but the fall, quick and heartless, is akin to that of hundreds of other signed bands who didn’t fit into record label policy come a cultural shift in the entertainment business.
All of the original band members are interviewed – alongside talking heads ranging from producer Howard Benson, Riki Rachtman, and Chip Z’Nuff to a legion of future Bang Tango players, including Matt Starr and Alex Grossi – with bass player Kyle Kyle and guitarist Mark Knight the bedrock around which the entire film is formed. Joe Lesté, though…..
I’ve met Joe Lesté. He was very cool and I felt, honestly, that I was in the presence of greatness; but, here, he makes himself look a bit of a dick just too many times. I wanted to come away from the film with just a great sense of respect for the guy who has dragged the Bang Tango flag around for a couple of decades after the success waned, but he contradicts himself or refuses to answer questions in the one place where he could finally have had his story told. In fact, there will be some viewers who will no doubt answer the question asked at the top of the doc with his name…..
This is a Bang Tango not Joe Lesté film, of course, and Drew Fortier has succeeded in doing what, in my opinion, every rock doc should, and that is have the viewer immediately want to listen to the band in question. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t stream “lost” album, ‘Love After Death’, as soon as the documentary ended.
The final reveal in ‘Attack of Life’, when the (at time of filming) current Bang Tango line-up were playing a big U.S. show will tickle you if you’re from the Anvil movie school of viewers, or break your heart a little if you’re an old school fan listening to an old school record as I am as I type this. The film is available to view for free after all – see it below – so you can immediately discover which camp you belong in…..
