The Wrecking Crew

Directed by Denny Tedesco (2008) ***1/2

When you’re living in the midst of an artistic movement, the experience of the progression and details of it can seem immeasurable. In retrospect, nearly every artistic movement of the 20th century had a short life, dependent on, caused by, and ended by societal forces particular to the moment. One might think that swing music, as a movement, lasted decades, for example, but it had a short duration, from approximately 1935 to 1946. (Afterward, bebop took prominence for music lovers and crooners took prominence for casual listeners.)

The same is true of rockabilly, prog rock, heavy metal, grunge and more. Musicians naturally continue to play all genres of music, even ragtime, but every genre has its particular era of propulsion, popularity and influence.

The documentary The Wrecking Crew perfectly illustrates this point. For approximately ten years, a crack team of studio musicians whose names were unknown (and even suppressed) made some of the most famous music ears have heard, from the Pink Panther and Hawaii Five-O theme songs to “Pet Sounds”, “These Boots Are Made for Walkin'”, “Be My Baby” and “I’m A Believer”. In this period, the “West Coast Sound” ruled, performed behind the scenes by craftsmen who worked relentlessly (to the detriment of their family life) and could be relied upon to play any style of music quickly and expertly, from R&B to country to rock, soul, bubblegum, jazz and schmaltz. Then, just as quickly, the era was over.

The Wrecking Crew, directed by Denny Tedesco in tribute to his father, Crew guitarist Tony Tedesco, is a fast-paced, informative and joyful look at the talents who comprised the loose group, most of whom were trained in classical and jazz music. Prominent among them is guitarist Carol Kaye whose work is so diverse she played on the Mission Impossible, M.A.S.H. and Shaft theme songs, recorded on Frank Zappa’s first album and played for Lenny Bruce, the Righteous Brothers’ “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin'” and Ritchie Valens’ “La Bamba”. Her training was in bebop and she played on approximately 10,000 recordings.

Also featured: the drummer Hal Blaine (who died in March, 2019); his drumming was featured in forty No. 1 US hit singles. He played on 6,000 singles. Keyboardist Don Randi was a major contributor to Phil Spector’s famous “Wall of Sound” and led his own small jazz groups. Glen Campbell became an LA studio musician in 1960 and played for Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole and Merle Haggard, to name a few. Unlike most of his fellow performers, he parlayed his talent, connections and natural charisma into a lifelong singing career. More Wrecking Crew members were interviewed than could be reasonably listed here.

I was surprised to find that Leon Russell was one of the crew, and that Herb Albert had relied on the crew to forge his hit-making Tijuana Brass sound. Also chiming in: Frank Zappa, Nancy Sinatra, Cher, Dick Clark, Micky Dolenz and Peter Tork (who was surprised at the time — and still doesn’t seem happy — to find that he wasn’t initially allowed to play guitar on his own records).

Denny Tedesco conveys the camaraderie the group had, the playfulness they exhibited in the studio, unaware they were working on tracks that would become classics. The film also shows the dark side of the gigs, the relentless, sleepless hours, the toll on lost relationships and families and money. His movie has a pleasing mixture of new interviews with archival footage and graphics.

The “West Coast Sound” gradually came to an end when listeners began demanding more authenticity from their performers, preferring that they play their own instruments, and that work produced by these singer/songwriters be created largely by them. Most serious musicians agreed (and stipulated so in their contracts) and there was less demand for the Wrecking Crew. (The same set of circumstances resulted in the end of the songwriting Brill Building; songwriters were in less demand by the early ’70s).

The two-DVD set comes with more extras than you can shake a drumstick at: deleted scenes with engineers, musicians, artists, songs, producers, arrangers. A total of six hours of extras are contained in the set, allowing an immersive dive into the era if so desired. I wish a bit more of that material had been added into the film proper; at 110 minutes, it goes by fast and — the subject matter so intriguing — feels too short.

—Michael R. Neno, 2019 June 10