"People who know, know how great he is." Around here, no one asks the title question of a recent documentary: Why Isn't Chris von Sneidern Famous? The person interviewed in Kathleen McNamara's film implies that not enough people "know," which may be true. But around here, he is famous. Or better, the veteran songwriter is just really fucking good, and a cool guy, a dependable sound engineer, and a person who goes around encouraging other people to make music. In the film, there's a scene in which Von Sneidern and another man are wedged into a narrow hallway. The other man is yelling: "What don't you like about Radio Disney? You want a fucking record deal? I can get you one on Radio Disney!" If you don't already love the local rocker, the smirk on his face at this point will steal your heart. The subject of all this speculation, his music, is heartfelt hard-edged pop with a 1960s feel, of a piece with CVS' contemporary, Kelley Stoltz, and other local Kinks-influenced, girl-group-loving musicians. Why isn't he? Maybe he doesn't want to be.