Sunday night, post JazzFest, a sold out crowd of weary music lovers geared up at One Eyed Jack’s for one more show. Three, sometimes four guitars, bass, a keyboard with some weird apparatus on it, a drum kit, two sets of bushy ‘burns, a tambourine, maracas, and Anton Newcombe and his seemingly endless cache of mesmeric songs; that was Brian Jonestown Massacre, playing their first New Orleans show in ten years.
From the first note, BJM created an enthralling stream of psychedelic sound, commanding you to close your eyes, move your feet, sway, just give in. But you couldn’t close your eyes, not with what was on stage. A disheveled Newcombe to one side, on guitar and vocals, directed his bandmates – eyes glazed like deer in headlights, perhaps playing at cult members – to pour through a steady torrent of guitar-centric trip. But front and center was freakishly charismatic Joel Gion on tambourine, a second source of hypnosis. Gion, also sporting mushroom-like sideburns, his face plastered with a knowing smirk, held court. I wondered why he had a mic but my question wasn’t answered until six songs in when he began to add vocal flourishes to the haunting whirl. His distinct tambourine style, keeping time with a large circular movement of the tambourine, was mesmerizing in its own right.
While each song was distinct, they were indistinguishable from the rest to this rookie ear, but the reverent crowd seemed to recognize many of them. Layered and effected guitars, plaintive lyrics, the quick build and resolution of each song, and haunting background vocals by the band was entrancing. The vibe was too frequently interrupted by Newcombe as he ranted every fourth song or so – berating band members, ragging on the “rich” audience, or trumpeting his song writing prolificacy. More welcome was when he introduced his wife, Katy, who joined them on stage singing for one song. The show continued for a full 3 hours and 20 minutes until it abruptly ended, the band left the stage, leaving behind only the instruments and a pile of maracas.
The New York City show at Webster Hall was a completely different animal. Another sold old show; this one required walking passing through a sidewalk thronged with Insane Clown Posse fans in costume, who were entering another Webster Hall venue. But the show felt different immediately. The band was dressed in mod clothing, Newcombe sporting a fringy white jacket; Gion looking like a Marseilles fisherman. “I’m playing for 3 hours! I’m doing this for ME, not you!” Opening with Never, Ever, it was clear BJM was giving good show tonight. The rants began immediately and they covered the gamut of subjects – other bands, politics, American Spirit cigarettes, rich people like the Carnegies, being an asshole – but lacked the rancor and weren’t directed to those in the room like the New Orleans show. Many songs were introduced, often following Newcombe wondering aloud, “What should we play next?” The enraptured crowd responded with requests but Newcombe was querying the band. BJM also played Geezers, Day, Week and Moths, and songs from their more recent Mini Album Thingy Wingy and Revelation albums. The songs evoked 60s psychedelia – The Byrds, Jefferson Airplane, Donovan. After about 25 fabulous songs, a solid set, true to his word, Newcombe finished up with The Lantern, 3 hours after he started.
Having finally seen BJM, I think I’ll hear them differently on CD. Not sure if I can separate the pleasure of the dreamy trippiness of the music from the drama of the vitriolic rants, but, I don’t think I will not hear the tambourine in these songs again either.
If you can get tickets, check out BJM as they tour the US and Canada through June and then Europe in June and beyond.
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