Bands that need their own definitive documentaries

The Talking Heads have dabbled in film plenty of times, but always on their own terms. The Jonathan Demme-helmed concert film "Stop Making Sense" is a high water mark for the medium, and frontman David Byrne's musical comedy film "True Stories" is very much a Talking Heads project but is largely Byrne's baby. In fact, the tension between Byrne, Jerry Harrison, Chris Frantz, and Tina Weymouth — the latter two of whom formed (and found huge success with) the Tom Tom Club during the group's active era — is the kind of thing that'd be ripe for a tell-all film. The band's influence on pop music is unquestionable, but although Byrne is the figurehead, he is not the only active creator in the group, and between the group's unusual commercial performance, tense breakup, and ensuring years, there is a lot of ground to cover in what would no doubt be a document that would start making sense for many a fan and casual onlooker alike.

Kelly Clarkson is so much more than simply the winner of the first season of "American Idol". She has generated a bevy of radio hits, has multiple multi-platinum albums to her name, and has managed to spin off a wildly successful television career, now headlining her own talk show. Yet the real story of her journey goes much deeper than what fans saw in the 2004 fluff documentary "Behind These Hazel Eyes". There's the battle she had with her label RCA to write her own rock-tinged material for her 2007 full-length "My December". There's the initial failure and surprising resurgence of the single "Piece by Piece" indebted to her "American Idol" comeback performance. There's the courtship, wedding, and divorce from her lover Brandon Blackstock — who was also her manager. There's coming off of the box office bomb "From Justin to Kelly" unscathed, there's her triumphant run as a judge on "The Voice", her spat with controversial producer Dr. Luke, her leaked track roasting songwriter Ryan Tedder over giving her the same beats that he also gave to Beyoncé for her single "Halo" — it's a lot to take in. It's doubtful that a documentary covering all of these details could be made without Clarkson or several other labels' explicit involvement, but there's no denying that it'd make for compelling cinema. After all: whatever doesn't kill her makes her stronger. 

Showtime has been doing this music documentary thing correctly for some time now — but sometimes it hasn't done the best job at advertising its offerings. 2017's "Whitney: Can I Be Me" was an incredible look into one of the greatest pop singers of our time and the hard times she endured. But the 2018 film "Whitney" seemed to steamroll over it just a bit in terms of the cultural conversation.

Now with a four-part miniseries about the Wu-Tang Clan called "Of Mics and Men," Showtime seems to have found its groove, as people are clamoring for an exhaustive account of the rise and gradual decline of one of the most influential rap groups of our modern era. This, coupled with the acclaimed Aretha Franklin theatrical feature, "Amazing Grace," and the Oscar-winning examination of Amy Winehouse's life (2015's "Amy"), has shown that with streaming services and premium channels like Showtime guaranteeing an audience for a subject no matter how niche, we truly are in a new golden age of music documentaries.

So with a massive new Led Zeppelin documentary making the circuit, we have to ask: What artists would we love to see as subjects of a documentary? "Behind the Music" features don't count here, as we're looking for what would end up being a truly cinematic deep dive of the musicians' backstories, controversies and acclaimed works. It might be a wish list, but just like any of these artists mentioned, sometimes wishes do come true.

When we were coming up with list initially, this was absolutely the first act that came to mind. After all, a feature chronicling Andre 3000 and Big Boi's rise to the top, that terrible choice to make the movie "Idlewild," their eventual "hiatus" and that oh-so-reluctant reunion is bound to not only include drama but also answer some questions many of us have been wondering for years. A few TV pieces have done a good job of painting OutKast's rise as a testament to the power of the emerging Dirty South rap sound, and the 2016 Netflix documentary "The Art of Organized Noize" whetted our appetites somewhat, giving some fun behind-the-scenes stories about their production team and how they came into each other's orbit. But we're still holding out for a definitive document about one of the greatest rap groups in all of history.

A couple of features have been done about the legend who is Joni Mitchell, one of pop music's great enigmas. There were the tour documentaries (1980's "Shadow and Light," 1984's "Refuge of the Roads") and an American Masters piece from 2003 ("A Woman of Heart and Mind") that covered all of the basics using a variety of interview clips from throughout her years. Yet a modern, full bore, contemporary dive into her artistry is something we long for — one that gets to the root of her walking away from pop music, the mixed reception that her 2007 comeback "Shine" received and the many heartbreaks she suffered in her later years. She is a compelling figure who constantly stokes our curiosity, and a filmed portrait of her life would go down like a case of you.

Outside of her controversial "MTV Unplugged 2.0" set, the only real documentary available on Lauryn Hill was made by the YouTube channel Empressive in 2019 and detailed her battle with the music industry. One can see why it would be essential viewing: Having risen up with the Fugees as one of the great female rappers of her time, her solo debut, 1998's "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill," went on to become a Grammy-winning megasmash that catapulted her into stardom. Then, troubled by her sudden and intense fame, she withdrew from the public eye, isolating herself from the outside world while raising her children. From then on, it becomes a litany of ups and downs that is near impossible to list all at once: her reunion with the Fugees; her leaving the reunited Fugees; her serving time for tax fraud; her numerous show cancellations; her criticizing the Catholic Church while performing in Vatican City — this would all make for one of the most compelling music films of all time.

We're keeping this on the wish list just because as of this writing, it has yet to materialize. But goodness, what we wouldn't give for a true and proper Prince documentary. Being a Prince fan was always tricky: You loved him to pieces, but during his life he would issue takedown orders for illegal postings of his copyrighted material, up to and including certain photos of him. Since his untimely passing, his songs have made their way to streaming services and his estate has been rolling out incredible archive releases at a gracious clip. Fans struggle with this "because it's not what Prince would've wanted," but this also paved the way for Ava DuVernay's announcement that she would be working on a documentary series for Netflix chronicling his entire life -- although she has since left the project, leaving the whole venture in limbo. It's not that we're getting emotional at the prospect of His Royal Badness eventually getting the full documentary treatment, but this is what it sounds like ... when doves cry.

There is a very, very good chance you do not know who Jon Brion is. All you need to know is that he played the giant pipe organ on the most recent John Mulaney stand-up special. Of course, we're kidding, because Jon Brion has become arguably one of the most influential pop producers and songwriters of a generation even if most people don't know his name. He was previously in the little-known band The Greys with Jellyfish member Jason Falkner. But once Brion got comfy in the producer's chair, he basically couldn't stop making classics, having worked on acclaimed albums by everyone from Fiona Apple to Aimee Mann to even Kanye West, taking a big role in shaping West's 2005 classic "Late Registration." Add in the film scores he did for "I Heart Huckabees," "Lady Bird," "Magnolia" and "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," and you have the makings of a pop music story that is dying to be told.

We almost didn't include McCartney on this list simply due to the 2001 documentary "Wingspan," which was a TV tie-in to his double-disc compilation that was released at the same time. However, that documentary was focused largely on the relationship between Paul and Linda and the music they made together under the Wings moniker. The film ends around 1980, just before John Lennon was murdered. We'd ideally like this to be a Martin Scorsese-styled, multihour epic that touches not only on some of the "Wingspan" territory but also on all he was up to post-"Anthology." He's had quite the career comeback in the 2000s but one that has also been filled with heartbreak and scrutiny. The Beatles story has inspired innumerable films and will continue to inspire more. We're just hoping McCartney's solo career will get the same treatment.

Country singer-songwriter Shelby Lynne pulled off the impossible: She won the coveted Grammy Award for Best New Artist...for her sixth album. While the award technically is given to an artist during his or her first year of true prominence, Lynne made a wry joke about it during her acceptance speech. That album that launched her to fame, 1999's untouchable "I Am Shelby Lynne," was a mature, modern effort that eschewed the country traditionalism of the albums she released in her 20s. Since then she created a big-budget pop album (that failed pretty spectacularly), put out a Dusty Springfield tribute, formed her own record label and played Johnny Cash's mom in the film "Walk the Line." She was never a full-bore country superstar, but her body of work is truly remarkable — almost as amazing as her own life story.

In truth, Billy Corgan has been the subject of a couple of different in-depth professional documentaries — just not around the periods of his life that anyone really cared about. For his post-Pumpkins band, Zwan, the deluxe edition of its only album had a 40-minute feature called "For Your Love" that pointed so much to the band's future — and ultimately the group broke up shortly after it was released. 2008's "If All Goes Wrong," meanwhile, chronicles Corgan trying to put together the "nu-Pumpkins," where he and drummer Jimmy Chamberlain are the only returning members with a bunch of youngs to fill out the bill and support Corgan's, um, "interesting" songwriting phase at this time.

What we wouldn't give to have a documentary that covers everything from the band's formation to Corgan's songwriting dictatorship to guitarist James Iha's breakup with bassist D'arcy Wretzky to the band members' drug problems to the touring member overdose that almost derailed them at the peak of their popularity to their surprising reunion tour in 2018 — there's just so much ground to cover. If this doc ever does get made and released, it'll be the greatest day we've ever known.

Billy Joel has had numerous concert films released about him and even did a "Behind the Music" episode. But his life story demands so much more than that. From his absent father to his constant issues with the music industry (his first album recorded incorrectly where his voice sped up; the back deal contracts signed to get him off a label that also reduced his future royalties by a staggering 25 percent), from his starmaking hits to his supermodel girlfriends, from his appearance in the animated film "Oliver & Company" to the fact that when he stopped making albums in 1993 he actually stopped making pop albums — there's a lot of material. While some have called him difficult to work with, no one can deny his abilities as a songwriting genius. His story absolutely deserves a non-VH1 telling.

At the age of 25, Ariana Grande might strike you as someone who is far, far too young to be the subject of a deep-dive documentary. And then...you remember what she's gone through. Initially a Broadway baby who found success on a Nickelodeon sitcom, she became a contemporary dance-pop star with a smattering of hits who grew in popularity with each passing year. Yet who in their 20s could possibly have the fortitude to process a suicide bombing at one of her concerts, killing more than a dozen of her fans? Or the hatred directed at her following the overdose death of her former boyfriend Mac Miller? And to come out of this all and score the biggest hits of her entire career? Marked by victories and tragedies all the same, Grande's story is unique and unprecedented, and we'd love to see it get the treatment and reverence it deserves.

Love them or hate them (especially given their recent output), one still can't deny how great Fall Out Boy's arc is. As a bunch of witty Chicago emo kids who just so happened to make it big and ended up being influential pop-rock scenesters in the process, they climbed the highest charts, got a little too arty with the 2008 record, "Folie à Deux," went on "hiatus" to explore side projects that didn't amount to much of anything, recorded a new album in absolute secrecy for fear it wouldn't amount to anything and then staged a commercially successful (if critically drubbed) career revival that carries on to this day. You don't have to love the songs (that know what you did in the dark), but you can't deny that this would be one fiery, kickass rock doc.

Ya know, not every music documentary has to be filled with highs and lows and platinum record drama. Sometimes it can just be a journey through a career of notable musical feats, and that's exactly what we'd love in a feature on PJ Harvey. As the only artist alive who has twice won the prestigious U.K. award that is the Mercury Music Prize, her journey from lo-fi punk-rock goddess to folk-influenced history formalist has been a fascinating one. Sure, there are headlines that can be made of her one-time romance with Nick Cave (and the breakup songs that soon poured out of him after the fact), but even something as simple an album-by-album tour through her career would make for a compelling piece of film.

Ahmir "Questlove" Thompson knows a thing or two about music documentaries — 'cos he's been in a lot of them. He's served as an interview subject for films relating to A Tribe Called Quest, James Brown, Michael Jackson, Tower Records — you name it. Yet the legendary Roots crew has yet to be the subject of a full and proper documentary. There were the early Philadelphia years when the group gained notoriety for being one of the first fully embellished live bands to do rap music and the latter days as the house band for "The Tonight Show," and in between the group gained and dropped members rather frequently, although Questlove and Black Thought remain the two undeniable constants. A feature focused on the journey — perhaps filtered through the duo's lasting friendship — would answer that long-standing question that has plagued The Roots for years: "Do You Want More?!!!??!"

It's been over a year since the passing of film composer Jóhann Jóhannsson, and his absence is still felt by film lovers the world over. A two-time Academy Award nominee, this Icelandic musical mastermind had already developed a thrilling minimalist style before he got involved in the film industry. Once he was partnered with Denis Villeneuve, the two worked together on the scores for great films like "Prisoners," "Sicario" and especially the inventive "Arrival." Unfortunately he passed away from heart failure rather unexpectedly at the age of 48, so a documentary covering his life and his work would no doubt be a fitting tribute.

The only way we would want a documentary about the band Brand New would be under the condition that it covers absolutely everything from these Long Islanders' rise to fame and the full-bore embrace of their sophomore effort, "Deja Entendu," by the post-hardcore kids to their long absence and surprising return in 2017 with their chart-topping album "Science Fiction." We would want to know the band drama, certainly, but also would want a frank conversation about the 2017 accusations that were brought up against frontman Jesse Lacey about sexual misconduct that he went on to publicly apologize for before the rest of the band's big tour fell apart. To say that the group's legacy is compromised now would be an understatement, but we'd appreciate a clear-eyed look at what it meant to people and what it means now.

We're not gonna tell you how to make a documentary on Terence Trent D'Arby/Sananda Maitreya, but we can tell you how it opens: with that infamous quote about how the debut album from D'Arby was going to be the most influential record since The Beatles' "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." That didn't play out, but D'Arby went on to achieve commercial success with that LP and with his bouncy, Prince-indebted single "Wishing Well." Since then, however, D'Arby got weirder and more experimental, putting out cult-favorite albums like "Neither Fish nor Flesh" and "Vibrator" before changing his legal name to Sananda Maitreya and releasing increasingly ambitious and niche records like 2015's "The Rise Of The Zugebrian Time Lords." To go from Top 40 contender to outsider oddball is a journey we'd gladly go on.

In all fairness, BBC World Service did a radio documentary on the absolutely legendary Giorgio Moroder in 2019 called "Together in Electric Dreams," the title of which is based on a hit he had with Human League singer Phil Oakey. Yet in terms of a watchable film or miniseries, oh what we wouldn't give to look over one of the most innovative music careers in existence. Moroder put out some solo albums, sure, but his work as a dance producer changed the ways of the music industry, ranging from the hypnotic 12-inch single that was Donna Summer's "I Feel Love" to his work on scores like "Flashdance" and "Midnight Express" (which won a couple of Oscars) to his late-period career revival with Daft Punk. A chronicle of Moroder's career is a detailed look at every major event in pop music for the last several decades. All we can say about this eventual documentary: the longer the better.

When J Dilla passed away at age 32, the heart of the entire hip-hop world broke. After all, who didn't love J Dilla? He was a producer of rare gifts who brought a sense of fun to every project he worked on, collaborating with legends from a young age. His 2006 effort, "Donuts," was released three days before his death (due to a rare blood disease) and was hailed as an outright beatscape classic. His ability to cut records whole (instead of, say, isolating a bass line and just looping it) was artful and humanizing, and his style has been imitated by many but never bettered. A documentary was made about the Stones Throw record label he was signed to (2013's great "Our Vinyl Weighs a Ton"), but Dilla is only a part of the Stones Throw story. His life absolutely deserves its own cinematic spotlight.

For someone who has snagged chart-topping hits for each of the past six decades, it's hard to deny the power of a force like Cher. She's suffered her own tragedies, won an Oscar and continues touring even to this day. It was shocking to discover that no proper documentary exists about her, although there are a couple of items on the periphery (like a 2013 TV program about her mother, Georgia Holt, or the terrible Reelz flick released in 2019 that has several "recreations" of key moments of her life). But no true film detailing Cher's journey through the whole of pop culture exists. If we could turn back time, we would've had one by now.

Maligned as remnants of the infamous "dad rock" or "yacht rock" paradigm, the truth of the matter is that Steely Dan was undeniably sophisticated in its approach to jazz-pop, resulting in a string of iconic albums that still get discussed, dissected and sampled to this day. Sure, there exists the hack job "Do It Again: The Story of Steely Dan" DVD and the much more fascinating 1999 "Classic Albums" examination of the creation of the 1977 record "Aja." But a true-blue recounting of how Donald Fagen and Walter Becker met, briefly toured, became genre-bending studio hermits, ran into drug problems, were beloved by critics and staged an unexpected late career (and Grammy-winning) comeback has yet to exist. We don't have an idea of how long it should be, but we just hope it does a good job of reelin' in the years.

Jack White is no stranger to documentaries. His first famous band, The White Stripes, was the subject of a 2009 piece called "Under Great White Northern Lights," which detailed his tour of Canada in 2007 with Meg White. He also appeared in Davis Guggenheim's 2008 film "It Might Get Loud," which served as a guitar summit between White, U2's The Edge and Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page. That film went into a little bit of back story, but a true account of Jack's early days helping cultivate the Detroit garage rock revival, his ups and downs with Meg, his analog recording sessions and his numerous post-Stripes efforts would really ring our doorbell.

Where do you even start with covering Janet's life? Her pre-packaged early teen efforts when she had no creative control of her music? Her defiant dance-pop breakthroughs with producers Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis? Her acclaimed acting roles? The way the music industry absolutely blackballed her when the infamous "Nipplegate" scandal went down during the Super Bowl? Her retreat from the industry and surprising 2015 return? We're not asking what she's done for us lately: We just would love a documentary detailing her entire journey. After all, it's her rhythm nation — we're all just living in it.

Imagine, if you will, that you're an English fashion model in the 1960s at the height of the counter-culture movement. You get married to George Harrison of the Beatles. His pal Eric Clapton becomes absolutely obsessed with you and lets George know it. Amicably, you divorce George and marry Eric Clapton. Both relationships are rocky, but these men write, respectively, "Something" and "Layla" about you — two of the most iconic rock songs of all time. Boyd's story is undeniably compelling, and while she chronicles a lot of it in her 2007 autobiography, "Wonderful Today," that tome would serve as a great grounding for a chronicle of her role as arguably the most revered muse in all of rock history.

The punk group Against Me! already has a documentary: "We're Never Going Home," released in 2004. It was a pretty by-the-numbers tour feature that showed the band on the road and between shows. If you made a documentary about Against Me! today, it would be a different beast. Although the band's been putting out rather acclaimed music since the late '90s, it was the 2012 revelation that the lead singer (who at the time was known as Tom Gabel) was transgender that surprised many in the punk community. Yet being punk is about being your authentic self, so now lead singer Laura Jane Grace has channeled her journey with gender dysphoria in frank, captivating terms, resulting in some of the most striking and successful music of the band's career. Her story absolutely must be heard, and we're waiting with bated breath for a lived-in documentary detailing all of it.

For an artist with a career as extraordinary as Sufjan Stevens' has been, it's amazing how little we know about him. Notoriously private, Stevens' brand of elegiac folk music has frequently featured lyrics beaming with personal details. But in truth that's often the extent of what we know of his life — he does a great job of only showing the parts of his life that he wants to show you. While a 2006 hour-long feature called "Crooked River" exists that has Sufjan and brother Marzuki visiting their father for the first time in a number of years, there has yet to be a film chronicling his journey from college-rock oddball to Oscar-nominated songwriting hero. We'll patiently wait for it, enduring any number of Christmas albums he puts out between now and then.