Butler's Cinema Scene

Brian Wilson leads the Wrecking Crew in recording instrumental tracks for the Beach Boys’ “Pet Sounds ” album.

“THE WRECKING CREW” My rating: B- 

101 minutes | MPAA rating: PG

The Beach Boys’ “Pet Sounds” LP. The Byrds’ “Mr. Tambourine Man.” Virtually anything by the Monkees.

The instrumental backing for these classic recordings was provided not by the groups whose names were on the record label but by anonymous studio musicians who earned millions creating the hooks, beats and arrangements that translated into monster record sales.

These L.A.-based players — there were perhaps two dozen of them — came to be known as the Wrecking Crew. They were given that nickname by old-time record producers who in the early ’60s viewed these blue-jeaned, T-shirted newcomers as a threat that would wreck the recording industry.

Didn’t work out that way.

Denny Tedesco’s long-in-limbo documentary “The Wrecking Crew” — it made the festival rounds in 2008 but its commercial release was delayed by years of negotiations over the music rights — is the filmmaker’s tribute to his late father (legendary session guitarist Tommy Tedesco, who died in 1997) and to a generation of brilliant musicians.

The Crew wasn’t an organized group.  The musicians individually contracted to play at recording sessions (sometimes several in one day), and as the best of the best they kept bumping into one another. Friendships and musical relationships were formed.

Following on the heels of other recent docs taking us back to the formative years of rock ‘n’ roll — “20 Feet from Stardom,” “Muscle Shoals” — this piece provides talking-head conversations (with the likes of Dick Clark, Lou Adler, Herb Alpert, Leon Russell, Jimmy Webb, Brian Wilson), archival footage and photos, and a treasure trove of great tunes.

Bassist extraordinaire Carol Kaye

Many of these players saw themselves as jazz artists and played rock,  pop and R&B only reluctantly. But once they got into those genres, they changed what America listened to.

They backed up Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole, and helped Phil Spector achieve his “wall of sound” effect on tunes like “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling.”

Back then many rock groups got recording contracts even before their members could play.  That’s why members of the Wrecking Crew were called in to provide most of the instrumental tracks for the Byrds’ first recorded song, “Mr. Tambourine Man.” They nailed it in three takes.  Months later, when the Byrds themselves recorded “Turn Turn Turn,” it took more than 50 takes.

The Crew also recorded the intro music for TV shows (that’s the elder Tedesco’s twangy guitar on the “Bonanza” theme song) and advertising jingles.

A few of the Wreckers stand out. There is of course Tedesco’s garrulous father, whom we see in later years giving hilarious guitar clinics. But the real revelation here is bassist Carol Kaye, the only woman member of the Crew and the creator of some of the most iconic riffs in pop (like the bass lead-ins to Sonny and Cher’s “The Beat Goes On” and the “Mission: Impossible” theme).

A few of the Crew, like session guitarist Glen Campbell, went on to major solo careers. But most were content to work quickly in the shadows and take home a major paycheck.

For all the terrific insights it provides, “The Wrecking Crew” suffers from a case of diminishing returns. It has a tendency to repeat itself (and repeat itself and repeat itself), with the result that it feels much longer than its 101 minutes.

But there’s no denying its value in finally bringing to light the contributions of some of the greatest unknown players in popular music.

| Robert W. Butler