Who doesn’t love a good music documentary?

There are few cinematic pleasures more acute than discovering the story behind cover art, or seeing legendary musicians stumble, ramble, educate and elucidate. Music documentaries feed our voyeurism – our desperate desire toknow – but they can also be truly great art in their own right, depictions that become as powerful as the bands they set in their sights.

The following list is a collection of hidden treasures – punk and alt. rock documentaries that might have slipped under your radar. All of them are available for immediate purchase, and some of them are even available to watch for free online, so get on ’em. Stat.

Cosmic Psychos: Blokes You Can Trust

Blokes You Can Trustis more ‘Strayan than a VB-soaked prawn sizzlin’ on the barbie. But it doesn’t simply get by on nationalistic niche appeal – there’s something genuinely powerful about hearing Australians celebrating their own musical culture for once. The Americans interviewed are bit players rather than stars, and even Eddie Vedder gets only the briefest of look-ins (though the scene in which he holds a 50 cent coin between his butt cheeks is memorable indeed).

This is a finely crafted documentary about a band that resisted the idea of ever being finely crafted, but more than that it’s a celebration of an entire genre too often overlooked by critics at home and abroad. The animated interludes are intensely lovable, as are the band in their own, rough-and-ready way. And how can you not adore a movie about a band that basically formed as a result of a few shared Twisties? Essential viewing.

We Jam Econo: The Story Of The Minutemen

There are few greater American bands of the last two decades than The Minutemen. Luckily for Tim Irwin, the director ofWe Jam Econo,there are also few greater interview subjects than the band’s bassist and driving force, Mike Watt. He’s smart and funny in equal measure, and it’s through him that the movie’s genuine pathos becomes apparent, as he quietly recounts the death of The Minutemen’s de facto star, D. Boon.

To call We Jam Econo intimate might even be an understatement. Everything about the film is personal. Everything about the film is meant. It is less a clinical study and more a missive from the heart, concerned with humans, and pain, and power. The kind of thing The Minutemen themselves would dig then.

1991: The Year Punk Broke

Perhaps the most amusing documentary on this list,1991is an endlessly quotable study of Sonic Youth, a band at the height of their powers. But though their live performances are ultra serious, ultra stylish insights into race relations and that unique brand of American nihilism, they prove to be a group of four startlingly goofy human beings. The documentary’s highlight? Thurston Moore intoning the most purple prose imaginable out of his hotel window to the nonplussed civillians below.

Filmage: The Store Of Descendents/All

Filmagedoesn’t provide a nice, neat overview of its subject matter. It’s not about reflecting upon highs and lows and eloquently summarising the band’s place in punk rock history. That theorising is glossed over, mentioned once or twice, but largely ignored in favour of blasting through the group’s tumultuous history as fast as possible. It’s as overcaffeinated and jittery as The Descendents and All themselves, a bare-knuckle journey through dingy clubs and shit-and-spit-stained squats. It’s tender, and it’s funny, and it’s intensely watchable. In fact, it might even be a classic.

The Art Of Punk – Black Flag

Though only 22 minutes long, The Art Of Punk – Black Flag is a striking look into the work of Raymond Pettibon, the man behind the titanic punk band’s famous black bars. Pettibon might not be the most verbose man around – he’s all long stares and drawled take-downs – but he’s fascinating to watch, a bitter Picasso type who spends the majority of the film casting shade upon his former friends and colleagues and scribbling things on the walls.

The Seer


Another short but sweet one,The Seeris a mere 27 minutes long. It follows Swans frontman Michael Gira as he smulders about the place, glaring at his bandmates and producing some of the most terrifying music imaginable. But amid the intensity and horror, there are some telling, shockingly quiet moments. Gira sits at his living room table packing records into boxes. Gira hugs his band before they go onstage. And Gira talks about them, and the music he makes, with the most intense affection imaginable.

Breadcrumb Trail

Lance Bangs’Breadcrumb Trailis unlike anything else you’ve seen. Just like the band it aims to decode, the film is haunted – eerie. It has a kind of subtle power, and there’s a mythic strangeness to the piece that sinks deep into your bones. The interview subjects are passionate but muted. Williamsburg, their home, is all gothic angles and dark shadows. And by the end, one is left knowing less about the band than when they started.

There’s also a kind of quiet tragedy to the piece. Nobody dies – no real scars are inflicted. But things just go silent. The documentary barely touches on the band’s reformation. Perhaps rightly so. Such a happy ending would seem trite.

Did we leave any great, rarely seen music documentaries off the list? Pop ’em in the comments section below.

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