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Todd Haynes' film, a semi-fictional, mostly reality-based, retelling of the early '70s glam saga, has landed on these shores with a resounding clunk. Possibly off-put by the film's confusing construction and depiction of robust man-folk parading in multi-hued gladrags, movie houses in these parts have opted for the likes of Jackie Chan instead. Pity. This packed 19-track soundtrack is marvelous, a true keeper. Goldmine, with the aid of original versions of classics, covers of oldies by glam-minded currents, and original songs penned with the spirit in mind, manages to corral all the fruity flavors of glam into one cohesive package.
Most immediately striking is the slavish debt paid to the Roxy Music/Brian Eno creative axis. The Venus In Furs -- an inspired gathering of Radiohead's Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood, ex-Suede guitarist Bernard Butler, ex-Grant Lee Buffalo bassist/keyboardist Paul Kimble, and original Roxy saxman Andy MacKay, work their way through faithful covers of Roxy's "2HB", "Ladytron", and the turbulent "Bitter-Sweet" with the incomparable Yorke working his low register to regenerate Bryan Ferry's quivering melodramatics. Kimble takes a turn at the mic for a stunning regeneration of Roxy's "Bitter's End", and actor Jonathan Rhys Meyers (who portrays the Bowie surrogate Brian Slade in the film) gets to flex his surprisingly good vocal muscles on the Eno pop-whirl "Baby's On Fire". Throw in the originals of Eno's martial rockout "Needle In The Camel's Eye" and Roxy's breakthrough sci-fi rev "Virginia Plain" for good measure, and you've got an overview of glam's forward-looking, art-rock conscience: music that's 25 years old and still sounds well ahead of its time.
Then there's the chore of filling the "Bowie gap" (the man himself refused to have his music used in Goldmine, squirreling away tracks for his own Ziggy Stardust film project). Sudder To Think (an oddball rock band who've suddenly found their niche in soundtrack work) serve up feyly trilling Ziggy/"All The Young Dudes"-style anthems in "Hot One" and "Ballad of Maxwell Demon". Previously closeted glam devotees Grant Lee Buffalo go one better, whipping out all the "Hunky Dory" tricks for the luxuriant "The Whole Shebang". After a few spins you barely notice the absence of Bowie's work, even as his legacy winks from every groove.
The rest of the disc jumps effortlessly from the raucous to the maudlin, capturing the two-chords-and-a-feather-boa aesthetic of fun and overspilling attitude. You've got Lou, T-Rex, even Steve Harley & Cockney Rebel. You've got the New York Dolls covered by Teenage Fanclub with an ex-member of Elastica, which works against all odds. Thrilling electronic bluster from Pulp. T-Rex again, covered by Placebo (fronted by the genuinely glam Brian Molko, a sort of mascara-bedecked gnome). And the rippling howl of Ewan McGregor, who portrays the "Nine parts Iggy Pop to one part Lou Reed" character, Curt Wild. The frequently nude Scot actor gets his rocks off on Iggy's frenzied "TV Eye", and, true to the character's name, provides the wildest five minutes on the disc.
Goldmine is all the more impressive considering what you usually get when you buy a rock soundtrack: namely, something Matthew Sweet shitcanned from an album session and a bit of orchestral flotsam played deep in the background as Leonardo DiCaprio smiles fetchingly. This, on the other hand, is the head, the heart, and the inappropriate glittering pelvis of one of modern rock's most influential chapters.
--Lane Hewitt