Floored Genius

Many a time over the past year or so I've come back from a gig buzzing, full of things I wanted to say, thinking I wish I had a blog to post these thoughts while they were so fresh. That was my original inspiritation for setting this thing up. And now the opportunity has arisen. Of course I've had many a beer, so the spelling may be a tad dodgy, some things could possibly read better, it will probably be rambling but so what - the idea is to capture those thoughts while they're fresh, I'm not trying to write for the NME.

Tonight was the first London gig in a while by The Brian Jonestown Massacre - (in)famous from their part in the documentary "Dig!" following the contrasting paths of themselves and the Dandy Warhols, they, under the leadership of the erratic Anton Newcombe, produce a hypnotic blend of garage rock and psychedlia which at times combines to produce something mind-blowing. I'll do a seperate blog on Dig! itself at some point- I saw it on a flight to (or from, I forget) New York and bought it since but haven't rewatched it yet, but for now the gig itself.

In the same way that The Fall IS Mark E Smith (to more or less quote "even if it's me and yer granny on bongos, it's still The Fall ... ok"), The Brian Jonestown Massacre is more or less Anton Newcombe. That said it was good to see Joel on stage. A lazy comparison would be to call him the Bez of the band, but that doesn't do him justice - yes, he just plays tambourine and maraccas during the shows, but at the same time he holds the whole glorious mess together, and has a nice line in banter to boot.

The show was equally brilliant and frustrating. They took a while to get going but when they did it was everything you hoped for and then ... well then Anton spends 5 minutes fucking moaning to his roadie about the tuning of his guitar and any sense of continuity goes. This happens several times. Later on another guitarist has a go at the same roadie and storms off stage, leaving the roadie to play the guitar. Then he comes back but after being berated by Anton leaves again after a few "fuck you"s .. at which point the (excellent) keyboard player takes over on guitar.

At their best they're exillerating, shiver down the spine - totally lost in the music stuff which is what music, live music, at it's best should be about ... if only they could get their act together you feel they could be fucking massive, and then they start playing up ... it's so bloody annoying, but then you think well maybe this is how it's meant to be ... maybe this is how Anton wants it to be. It all comes back to Anton - he's the creative spark - he's the key - and at the same time he's the one who holds it back ... maybe not consciously, maybe not when he's doing it, but he's got to be aware?

But who wants mediocre ... in the same way Stephen refers to art that makes you feel what it's like to be alive, I think the same about music ... I'd rather a band shot for the stars and failed gloriously than plowed that middle of the road furrow. I left about 20 minutes into the last track tonight, it was down to the heroic drummer, Anton and one other guitarist, playing over a cachophony of feedback - it had been that way for 10 minutes or so - I wouldn't be surprised if they were still playing now.

Anton - I salute you!