Anton Newcombe is also completely committed to his music. Anyone who fucks with it, be it audience or band member, will soon feel the wrath of his manic ways. If you’re not all too familiar with the manner in which Anton runs his life, band, and career, I strongly urge you to purchase the documentary “Dig!” which chronicles his band, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, and his fixation on The Dandy Warhols.
After filming over 2000 hours of footage, you know there are some great moments that make up the rockumentary. So rather than repeat what you really need to witness anyway, let me say that “conflict” is a part of Anton’s life and musical direction. Those that try to work with him end up fighting. Those that try to assist him end up frustrated. Those that try to understand him end up confused. In the end, only his music manages to reveal him and even that is hidden under a retro fabric from a time and place that he wishes he had taken part in.
Anton is probably one of the most notorious targets for confrontation since Henry Rollins during his long hair phase. People actually attend a BJM show to either 1.) witness a meltdown or 2.) create one. And while you may not be able to control #1, it’s hard for me to understand why you would even want to provoke someone who obviously has challenges with dealing with confrontational people. It’s the equivalent to challenging a retard to a spelling bee; it’s just too easy.
Take a performance from Schubas in Chicago, Illinois. A man threw a full glass of beer directly at Anton only to be hit and escorted out….by his girlfriend. Prior to this incident, Anton got into a verbal argument with his guitarist over the volume of his instrument. The guitarist attempted to appease Anton, gave up and then increased the volume of the instrument again. Angry, Anton marched over to the guitarist’s amplifier and adjusted every control knob until his vision and his anger were under control.
While this incident is not on the movie, “Dig!” provides viewers with many other examples of “confrontation,” some of which end with broken sitars. “This doesn’t happen in my band!” reminds Courtney Taylor of The Dandy Warhols after performing with the BJM, as if anyone really expected differently.
The fixation that Anton has on the Warhols is fascinating. It’s almost as if he wants to live vicariously through them and use their success as both a rationale for his own band not succeeding and as a focal point for his own self esteem. The Warhols are also used as creative fodder, causing Anton to resort to bullying tactics both in song composition and as a marketing tool. Anton may be the star of the film, but the Dandy Warhols certainly come off as the hapless shells that jump when their major label asks them to do so. They have nearly no power over their direction while Anton meanders through the states with complete control over whatever he wants to do. It’s both an envious and unhealthy situation which adds to his own instability. This is clearly a man who needs direction and a peer that he can relate to. Courtney Taylor is unable to provide either as his own drive places his band as priority one. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
I consider The Dandy Warhols as a guilty pleasure, but nothing they’ve done will be treated with the same amount of reverence as what The Brian Jonestown Massacre has managed to accomplish. Never mind the fact that the BJM’s own catalog is filled with misfires and severely crippled ideas. While the movie may boost the catalog sales for BJM, it goes without saying that not even a lucrative inclusion on a soundtrack to a Hollywood smash would make them successful. And that’s what makes Anton’s band and music so appealing in the end: with this understanding, Anton continues to work out of sheer passion which is exactly what rock music needs more of these days.
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