Robert Rorke

Robert Rorke

TV

‘Vinyl’ spins a dark take on ’70s-era music scene

Can rock ’n’ roll save one man’s soul?

In the opening scenes of HBO’s “Vinyl,” a strung-out record executive sits in his green Mercedes on a very sketchy street in lower Manhattan, trying to score drugs — while holding the card of an NYPD detective.

Richie Finestra (Bobby Cannavale) is played out, like one of the past-their-peak artists (The Osmonds, Robert Goulet) on American Century, the record label he is about to sell to Polygram Records. As he’s dialing his car phone to confess his role in a crime, some kid walks on his car, headed to the now-bygone Mercer Arts Center. Richie follows him: Inside the New York Dolls are playing their classic “Personality Crisis.” It’s like nothing Richie’s ever heard, and judging by the response of the kids gyrating on the filthy floor, it looks like the future — and his salvation.

“Vinyl” is an ambitious, 10-episode series with a lot of boldface names attached. Martin Scorsese directed the pilot (as he did for HBO’s “Boardwalk Empire”). Mick Jagger is one of the executive producers. The flashback-driven pilot introduces a large cast of characters — A&R men, musicians, mobsters, hookers and a disc jockey played with scene-stealing bravado by Andrew Dice Clay — and draws heavily on nostalgia for the city’s gritty, underground days to give a convincing sense of place. Cameos by Robert Plant (Zebedee Row), Alice Cooper (Dustin Ingram) and yes, Goulet (Matt Bogart) recall the variety of artists who could be grouped on one record label back in the day.

Juno Temple (left) and Ato EssandohHBO

Even with the large cast, period-perfect costumes and generous music clearances (thanks, Mick), the show will live or die on Richie’s appeal. He is not — I repeat, not — Tony Soprano. Five hours in, he doesn’t have that kind of dimension. Richie is a guy who got rich screwing over a lot of other people. Most unforgivably, he ruined the career of blues singer Lester Grimes (Ato Essandoh), whose soul-rattling voice is just about the best vocal on the show. Richie also becomes an accessory to a murder that Scorsese films in such sickening detail that viewers will be unable to look at the screen. Clearly, the arrival of the New York Dolls is not going to cut it when it comes to Richie’s redemption.

Several scenes in the “Vinyl” pilot are taken directly from “Goodfellas,” so perhaps Scorsese couldn’t resist paying homage to his great movie (which is on TV at least five times a week) or his glory days. Once the show settles into a weekly rhythm, though, the story moves forward, with Richie emerging as a hectoring coke fiend who tries to keep his demons — and the police — at bay.

The compelling Cannavale keeps the large cast, which includes Ray Romano, breakout Juno Temple and a hilarious Max Casella, on its toes. Several scenes focusing on Bobby’s unhappy suburban wife, Devon (Olivia Wilde), too closely echo Betty Draper on “Mad Men.” And Betty had better clothes.

“Vinyl” will leave you dancing to the music, but may leave you wondering why you should care.