By the time “All I Can Say” fades out, it doesn’t feel like a 112-minute film about a famous dead rock singer. It’s more like experiencing small life and bright lights with Shannon Hoon, whose ethereal howl took Blind Melon’s jammy alt-rock to MTV masses, as heard on the band’s 1993 number-one hit “No Rain.”
“All I Can Say” is as personal and immersive as rock docs get. Co-directors Danny Clinch, a music photographer who worked with Blind Melon, and Taryn Gould put together the film from 250 hours of video footage left behind by Hoon, who documented five years of his life on High 8 tape.
Gould and Colleen Hennessy’s editing on “All I Can Say” is particularly brilliant. They weave together everyday moments like Hoon brushing teeth, with art-house abstract quick clips of road and home life, with a small town Indiana dude ascending the music-biz at dizzying speed.
Some notable people and moments depicted in “All I Can Say”: Lisa Crouse, Hoon’s girlfriend of 10 years, back to high school, senior prom and all that. We see scruffy longhair Hoon turn to music to escape his dead-end factory job, putting together songs on acoustic guitar. We go inside Hollywood recording studio Record Plant, where Hoon, then in his early 20s, cut vocals for Guns N’ Roses’ single “Don’t Cry” with Axl Rose, a friend of Hoon’s sister and fellow Lafayette native. (What is it with Lafayette? Classic era GN’R guitarist Izzy Stradlin is from that same humble municipality.)
In his brief “All I Can Say” appearance, Rose is seen at the height of his early ’90s sexiness. Outlaw eyes, long red hair, cheetah lean. On camera, Rose wishes Hoon’s mom a Merry Christmas. When Hoon asks Rose to tell Mrs. Hoon her son has been behaving, Rose replies with a grin, “Well …” GN’R guitar star Slash, behind his corkscrew mane, also has a cameo in “All I Can Say.”
Hoon’s co-vocals on “Don’t Cry,” a song dating back to GN’R’s club days and released on 1991′s “Use Your Illusion” set, gave nascent L.A. band Blind Melon a rocket boost. Soon, they’re inking a record contract on the roof of the Capitol Records building.
In various clips throughout “All I Can Say,” Hoon is shown consuming booze, weed, mushrooms, coke and heroin. Knowing how things ended up for him, the hard-substance segments are sad to watch.
However, the clip of Hoon recording his lead vocals for “No Rain” in a candlelit studio booth is special. Blind Melon was based in Los Angeles. But the band was entirely comprised of transplants: Hoon, Mississippi guitarist Rogers Stevens, bassist Brad Smith and drummer Glen Graham and Pennsylvania guitarist Christopher Thorn.
Blind Melon singer Shannon Hoon is the subject of the documentary film "All I Can Say." (Courtesy Oscilloscope Laboratories)
In the film, the singer talks about being drawn to music because of its therapeutic effects, for both creators and listeners. That’s easy to believe after watching Hoon’s cathartic performance style, as when he’s writhing onstage at a gig opening for Ozzy Osbourne and Alice in Chains. (Damn, what a bill that was.)
Eventually we get to watch Blind Melon film their music video for “No Rain.” The Bee Girl starring clip propelled the band’s eponymous debut disc, which stiffed initially, to platinum sales a year after its release.
More “All I Can Say” moments: Fellow ’90s rock god Lenny Kravitz licking Hoon’s video camera lens. Hoon mesmerized while listening to Neil Young play acoustic backstage during the tour Blind Melon did with Young and grunge-kings Soundgarden. Blind Melon basking in bigger and bigger crowds, when playing “No Rain” was still joyous for the band and not a millstone.
When Rolling Stone magazine wants to photograph only Hoon for a Blind Melon cover story, his understandably pissed band-mates engage in “Almost Famous” grousing. Eventually the entire band is photographed together for their RS cover, in the buff. Soon, Hoon’s family is singing a Miller Lite fueled version of “The Cover of Rolling Stone.” Blind Melon gets to tour with the actual Rolling Stones. The band performs on “Saturday Night Live” doing a self-conscious rearrangement of “No Rain” as Hoon wears a stupid hat.
Hoon, who grew up in a family with addiction issues, has extended periods of sobriety and struggles through relapses. The singer gets hassled by cops in a hotel and by security at a gig. We watch Blind Melon helicoptered into Woodstock ’94, the mega-festival where Hoon sings while wearing eyeliner, barrettes and a shaman pantsuit. Later while recording the band’s sophomore LP in New Orleans, he shaves his head.
Blind Melon singer Shannon Hoon is the subject of the documentary film "All I Can Say." (Courtesy Oscilloscope Laboratories)
“All I Can Say” viewers are there for the phone call where longtime girlfriend Lisa tells Hoon she’s pregnant. We’re even granted access to the delivery room when their daughter Nico Blue is born. We’re in Hoon’s backyard watching him plant a little tree with Lisa and Nico. When he blows out the candles on his birthday cake, we’re right behind him.
To Lisa’s visible exasperation, Blind Melon goes back on tour. During a Oct. 20, 1995 Houston show, Hoon is shown sweating profusely while performing a song that isn’t “No Rain.” In a hotel room the next day, he’s seen wearing yellow shorts and a man-bun, on the phone saying, “I really need to get off that f---ing bus.”
Hoon never got off that bus. A few hours later he was found dead at age 28 on Blind Melon’s tour bus, before a scheduled show at New Orleans venue Tipitina’s. The cause of death was ruled a cocaine overdose induced heart-attack.
There’s a lot of death in “All I Can Say” even before that. Viewers relive the passing of Nirvana singer Kurt Cobain, Grateful Dead guitarist Jerry Garcia and author Charles Bukowski, through TV news reports Hoon watches and records. There’s a horrifying incident after a Blind Melon concert in Detroit, where a women commits suicide by jumping off a nearby skyscraper. The latter incident, which the band saw happen, and Cobain’s death particularly shake Hoon.
Through Hoon’s TV eyes, viewers also re-experience quintessential ’90s moments involving Tonya Harding, Bill Clinton, etc. We also hear some of the music Hoon listened to, including Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young song “Teach Your Children” and Rolling Stones album “Beggars Banquet.”
Blind Melon singer Shannon Hoon is the subject of the documentary film "All I Can Say." (Courtesy Oscilloscope Laboratories)
The distributor for “All I Can Say” is Oscilloscope Laboratories, co-founded by Beastie Boys rapper/musician Adam Yauch. The Brooklyn company’s previous releases include “Exit Through the Gift Shop,” a documentary about street artist Banksy.
Recently, “All I Can Say” was released in a handful of theaters, including The Broad in New Orleans. To bring the doc to more viewers - during a pandemic when many feel safer watching at home - Oscilloscope partnered with indie record stores. By purchasing a “virtual cinema” ticket though stores listed at allicansay.oscilloscope.net, fans get a three-day digital rental. Rentals are $11.50. According to Oscilloscope publicist Sydney Tanigawa, the split is 50/50 between distributor and record stores. Participating Alabama retailers include Huntsville’s Vertical House Records and Opelika’s 10000Hz Records.
Passerby fans and writers often file Blind Melon as one-hit wonders. (A lyric from signature smash “No Rain” provides the title for “All I Can Say.”) But not so fast. The band also connected with MTV hits “Tones of Home” and “Galaxie.” Writing for Rolling Stone, Ted Drozdowski gave “Soup,” Blind Melon’s ambitious second album, a lazy, obtuse one-and-a-half star review. Getting panned in RS back then was a blow to a band looking to avoid the sophomore jinx. In interview audio from “All I Can Say,” when asked how the new album’s going over, a bummed Hoon replies, “One-and-a-half stars.”
Time has revealed both Blind Melon’s spirited debut and shaggier “Soup” to be on par with the ’90s top albums. As for Drozdowski’s pan, unlike many classic RS reviews it doesn’t appear to be on the magazine’s website. After Hoon’s death, Blind Melon released an interesting 1996 posthumous rarities collection “Nico,” named after the singer’s daughter, before breaking up. The band later rebooted with replacement singers.
The surviving Blind Melon members are talented musicians. Still, a career after your charismatic lead singer dies is tough sledding - just ask Stone Temple Pilots. Among other revelations, “All I Can Say” reminds us of the cavernous hole in ‘90s rock. Bands that should now be legacy acts doing big rooms are instead either shuttered or touring venues that would be underplays if their classic frontmen were still alive.
For fans who grew up during the early ’90s, popular guitar music’s last great era, “All I Can Say” offers fascinating teleportation back. And since Hoon recorded his footage between 1990, the year Blind Melon formed, up until his death, the doc’s also a uniquely firsthand doomed-rocker arc. In one clip from “All I Can Say,” the singer expresses interest in getting into filmmaking. Now, 25 years after leaving this world, Shannon Hoon (with Clinch, Gould and Hennessey’s help) has made a must-see film.
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