Misuse of the funds raised by Band Aid’s landmark 1984 smash, “Do They Know It’s Christmas” by Ethiopia’s then president aside, the intentions of Bob Geldof and Midge Ure who spearheaded the famine relief project were pure. The song marked its 40^th anniversary last year and with it, the release of the candid footage captured at the time of the recording. This is not a slick production but a neatly edited, fly-on-the-wall perspective of what it was like to be there on that momentous day. A lot more boots on the ground than the glitzy The Greatest Night in Pop, The Making of “Do They Know It’s Christmas” is the British superstars of the time rolling their sleeves up and getting involved in the creation, music as well as vocals. There are no retrospective talking heads accounts, but watching George Michael nervously do his part and Boy George swoop in straight from New York on the Concorde and smash his, is priceless.

Penelope Spheeris’ 1988 documentary on Los Angeles’ late ‘80s heavy metal lifestyle, The Decline of Western Civilization Part II put the spotlight on the excess and the inevitable titular decline of the people in that scene. Nöthin’ But a Good Time: The Uncensored Story of ‘80s Hair Metal, based on the book of (almost) the same name by Tom Beaujour and Richard Bienstock, serves as a sequel of sorts to Spheeris’ film. This look at the demise and fallout of the Sunset Strip’s hair metal scene, and the rock star hopefuls that littered the streets for years, convinced it was their turn next is long overdue. Jeff Tremaine (The Dirt, Jackass) gets to the sad truth via candid conversations with key figures at the time (even if they are virtually unknown, never having gotten the fame they were sure was their due), as well as the last few that did make it such as Brett Michaels, Tracii Guns and Don Dokken. Fascinating watch.

The Toronto Rock and Roll Revival was thrown by 22-year-old John Brower, one month after Woodstock. The ambitious Brower wanted to promote an event featuring the pioneers of rock: Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Bo Diddley, Jerry Lee Lewis and Gene Vincent. With flagging ticket sales, Chicago and The Doors were added to the lineup. What turned things around was asking John Lennon to emcee and ending up with Lennon playing live. With that many egos in the mix, plus the biker gang that had helped fund the event, the event was about as chaotic as one would expect. On stage, however, it was one historic performance after the next—if only in retrospect. The concert can be heard on Live Peace in Toronto album from Lennon/Ono. And DA Pennebaker captured it in his 1972 documentary, Sweet Toronto. Some of that footage is seen in Revival69: The Concert That Rocked the World, but the real worth of the film is in its behind-the-scenes perspective.

One of the most unique presentations of a band’s story is from At the Drive-In/Mars Volta’s Omar Rodríguez-López and Cedric Bixler-Zavala. Their film, Omar and Cedric: If This Ever Gets Weird is the ultimate in cinéma verité. Years of footage, going back to Rodríguez-López’s childhood, is the source for this honest and raw story of their friendship and their creativity. Omar and Cedric covers every aspect their lives from dealing with their heritage to racism, serious drug problems, getting sucked into Scientology, relationships, success and lack of success. Narrated by the subjects off-camera, with lo-fi video that reflects the nature of the guys themselves, nothing is taboo. Omar and Cedric doesn’t make excuses, it just tells it like it was. This is one time that having the subjects in charge of telling their story is the most truthful version of events. If you weren’t a fan of their bands before, you will certainly be a fan of the guys after Omar and Cedric.

The story of Lou Pearlman, “the mastermind and master scammer who conceived, curated and catapulted the massively successful Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, Aaron Carter, LFO, O-Town, Natural” as I said in my review of Dirty Pop: The Boy Band Scam, never gets old. A genius in his concepts, a conman in his dealings, a deviant in his behavior and landing in jail for his misconducts at every turn, Pearlman is an enigmatic character who is as much of a genius as he is gross. The three-part series is based on Pearlman’s 2002 autobiography, Bands, Brands and Billions—whose words are put into his mouth via AI, questionable but impressive. It is balanced by the input of several of the artists whom he was instrumental in turning into superstars as well as former employees. It’s an absorbing story which leaves the viewer with one burning question: “What exactly did Pearlman do with the millions he earned?”

In the two-part expose Taylor Swift vs Scooter Braun: Bad Blood, the first episode, “Taylor’s Version” is a love letter to Taylor Swift who apparently has zero flaws. In fact, she is an angel walking among us mortals. She is a victim, being taken advantage of by men with her consent—an inflammatory term that’s irrelevant to this tug-of-war over her masters that she doesn’t have rights to. It’s followed up by “Scooter’s Version” which makes it glaringly obvious is that Braun’s purchasing of the record label that owned Swift’s masters was perfectly legal and a shrewd business move. Her re-recording of her albums was a lowdown retaliation. The first half can be skipped entirely as it doesn’t add to the story or give any concrete reasons why Swift has such animosity toward Braun. The second half, however, unequivocally shows her petty grudge-holding, unfair practices, and once again, while Swift plays the victim very well, she always comes out a winner.

The newest installment in HBO’s Music Box series is a frictionless celebration of the frictionless soul pop coming out of LA in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. While the nautical categorization may be a bit of a misnomer (excepting Christopher Cross’s “Sailing,” of course), Yacht Rock: A Dockumentary is driven by interviews that allow the scene’s originators–Michael McDonald, Kenny Loggins, Toto, etc.–to define it on their terms. Each offers a glimpse into their smooth jazz and soul influences, happy accidents (like the writing of “What A Fool Believes”), and unexpected turns (like Toto’s prevalence on Thriller). Though lacking deeper engagement with the social realities that allowed a group of white men to appropriate Black music into number one hits and Grammy awards, voices like Thundercat and scholar Jason King offer some balance, as does the segment highlighting hip-hop’s reclaiming of these smooth sounds through sampling. As a salute to what Questlove deems “perfect sitting down dancing music,” Yacht Rock is as breezy and buoyant as its namesake. –By Chris Thiessen

In 2024 Redd Kross released an album, a book and a long time coming documentary: Born Innocent: The Redd Kross Story. The McDonald brothers have persisted for decades with a haphazard career that is bolstered by humor. Director Andrew Reich reflects this in the irreverent Born Innocent. The film has a cross-section of talking heads from their parents and childhood friends to their rock star wives and respected musicians who sing their praises to the moon. Ultimately Born Innocent is as erratic as Redd Kross.

The San Francisco dance music scene in the ‘90s was a singular experience. Between the Beats comes close to bringing that special time to the masses. Footage and flyers plus firsthand talking heads who are frank in their accounts whether it’s about the positivity or about the reckless drug use keep Between the Beats honest. Yet, speaking as a card-carrying participant in that scene, the film is niche and a touch too insular for widespread appeal.

This hour-long overview of women musicians who protested and brought attention to critical issues through their songs could have been great. With Selena Gomez and Stacey Abrams at the helm, the film certainly has star power with a wide range of talking heads. But Louder: The Soundtrack of Change doesn’t have a sharpened central narrative and other than snapping your attention back every so often with the appearance of say Kathleen Hanna or Chaka Khan, it gets boring quickly.