Carol Kaye of the Wrecking Crew

Watching Denny Tedesco's labor-of-love documentary, The Wrecking Crew, one begins to acquire a new sense of the interconnectedness of American pop music from the 1960s. That this common thread, which ties Dean Martin to The Beach Boys, Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass, and Alvin and the Chipmunks, arises from the fact that the hit songs by all these disparate artists were played by the same extended group of musicians might be cause to see the pop music industry as even more regulated, market-tested and homogenized than we already knew it was. But in the context of this warm, personal and revealing film, it becomes something to celebrate and a reason to enjoy the songs on a new, and richer, level.

The film is structured around a fun, informal "round-table" conversation between drummer Hal Blaine, bassist Carol Kaye, saxophonist Plas Johnson and the director's father, guitarist Tommy Tedesco, filmed before his death from cancer in 1997. These four, along with drummer Earl Palmer, guitarists Bill Pittman and Glen Campbell (yes, that Glen Campbell), and some 20-odd other studio pros, many of whom are interviewed for the film, were the uncredited backbone of thousands of pop songs recorded in Los Angeles between the late '50s and late '60s. Dubbed the "Wrecking Crew" because they were seen as a threat to "wreck" the session business by the older generation of musicians, this young, diverse corps of players expertly, but with a casual flair, shaped the sound of hit songs from "A Taste of Honey" to "You've Lost that Lovin' Feelin'."

Watching Kaye vamp on the "Good Vibrations" bassline in order to illustrate Brian Wilson's genius is one of the many pleasures of the film, as is hearing Wilson call Kaye "the greatest bass player in the world," and Cher marvel at the construction of Phil Spector's Wall of Sound. Nancy Sinatra, Alpert and Campbell are also among the truly impressive collection of relevant parties who appear on-camera.

It's unexpectedly moving in the end when, inevitably, I suppose, the film becomes a meditation on the ethereal nature of celebrity and the fleetingness of success. Immortality—touchingly, when bestowed by a devoted son—is in the eye of the beholder.

Dave Marr