This is the kind of movie that makes this exercise of writing up every feature I see kind of redundant, because it's not much of a movie. (at 60 minutes it's not much of a feature either) Bob Moog invented, you know, the Moog synthesizer, which as the movie illustrates has been the source of lots of directions in music, some legendary (Bernie Worrell), lots fun (Stereolab), and lots of atrocities against the ear (Rick Wakeman, Keith Emerson). The common thread between these musicians is nonexistent, and the movie doesn't even try - it just plods from point to point, with Bob in tow to look on like a proud papa. I think the reason there's no cross-cutting is that there's no content - some lawyer clearly wouldn't let them talk about Moog's battles with the company that bears his name (don't ask me for more detail), and all that's left is a sequence of short arbitrary rambles - still life with Gershon Kingsley, still life with DJ Spooky (who is a pompous ass), Moog picking bell peppers, et cetera, plus some wan recitations of the word 'spirituality.' The only breakout moment is when Worrell tells Wakeman that he thinks of a keyboard as a woman that he's having sex with and Wakeman responds, 'I tried that but I found that the songs became very short.' To which Worrell replies, 'Play slower!' THERE is a cultural frisson to die for.