Seminal Texas Psyche-Rock band The 13th Floor elevators were an influence on artists as diverse as Janis Joplin, Patti Smith and ZZ Top. If you’ve never heard of them, don’t feel too bad. After heroic doses of various psychotropic substances lead elevator Roky Erickson suffered a nervous breakdown and the band imploded, remaining little more than a cult footnote in the history of psychedelic pop. The Who jamming with The Doors might be a, somewhat unsatisfying, description of the Elevators sound although we don’t really hear enough of their music in You’re Gonna Miss Me – the story of Erickson’s burnout, wilderness years and gradual rehabilitation.
Diagnosed with schizophrenia at the height of the bands success Erikson fled to San Francisco and began a devastating heroin binge. Busted for possession on his return to Texas he was declared insane and sent to the infamous Rusk mental hospital.
However, this wasn’t exactly the end of Erikson’s musical career. While in the hospital, which at the time seems to have been more Victorian bedlam than place of rehabilitation, he formed a band with a motley crew of murderers and rapists. Released in 1972, Erikson attempted to articulate his experiences by writing and recording some extraordinary sounding music that went largely unnoticed.
The documentary is predominantly made up of recent footage of Roky, now living in relative obscurity with his elderly mother, at home in Austin, Texas. With seemingly little interest in his previous life it remains unclear how much of Erickson’s muddled state is the result of drug abuse, shock therapy received at Rusk or other factors. We see him sitting around listening to white noise on the radio or watching bad Saturday morning anime. A British music journo, working on a biography, comes visiting but Erickson answers his questions in a staccato manner and declines a copy of the early draft. His mother, a devout Christian, discourages her son from psychiatric help or taking medication insisting he must seek aid from the divine.
Erikson’s two brothers have an extremely frayed relationship with mom (who, frankly, comes off as mad as box of frogs) culminating in a ‘custody battle’ of sorts for guardianship of their sibling. You’re Gonna Miss Me really wants to be as much about the breakdown of this family unit as the breakdown of its protagonist, but it only partly succeeds. One problem is that this sort of thing has been done before and far more dramatically too. Brian Wilson, the patron saint of music genius burnout, had his story told in Don Was’ fascinating I Just Wasn’t Made For These Times and the breakdown of the family has, most recently, been handled in documentaries as diverse as Capturing The Friedmans and Crumb. It’s strongly reminiscent of the latter, in particular, although the creepy voyeurism that made Crumb so compelling is absent here. As harsh as it might sound, the other problem is that this story just isn’t that interesting. There really doesn’t appear to be much to differentiate Erikson’s story from any one of a thousand others that could have been picked randomly from the big book of Rock’n’Roll history. The film has an unfussy, almost downbeat, style which be commendable if the material were stronger. As it is, You’re Gonna Miss Me doesn’t really have the crossover appeal of The Devil & Daniel Johnston – another recent documentary about a semi-obscure Austin songwriter with mental health issues. Whereas Johnston has a sort of quirky charisma it’s actually rather depressing to spend 90 minutes in the company of Erikson and his squabbling family. File under: Die-hard Elevators fans only.