Brian Jonestown MassacreFederale
@The Fillmore June 21, 2010
Better Than: Watching Dig! on Hulu
Last night's sold-out
Brian Jonestown Massacre show at The Fillmore was anything but
predictable. From beginning to end, the audience either had expectations or made
assumptions. Time and time again, those were thwarted -- and in the best possible way.
First of all, many of us -- including myself -- were seeing Brian Jonestown Massacre for
the first time. When asked, most people cited
Dig!, the 2004 Brian Jonestown
Massacre/
Dandy Warhols documentary as the reason for their interest in the band. The movie
depicted frontman Anton Newcombe as a self-centered, hotheaded rock 'n' roller prone to
ejecting band members from the stage. Subsequently, people expected to see a fight.
"I could only hope to get socked in the face," said a skinny youth wearing a yellow and
orange scarf commando-style around his forehead.
Wrong. If anything, Newcombe appeared humble last night. As the band filed onto the stage in
ones and twos, Newcombe shuffled to one side and stayed there, playing shoulder to the
crowd for the entire evening. In a not completely surprising twist, percussionist Joel Gion
proved the gregarious one (he also seemed to vie for the limelight in Dig!). Striding to
take center stage, he lifted his tambourine up to his lamb chop sideburns and beat it like he
was listening to the gods.
Keeping in line with keeping us guessing, new material took a backseat to old favorites.
"Aren't they going to play anything off the new album?" I heard a woman whisper
irritably about halfway through the two-hour set. But lost in a droney haze of nostalgia -- and perhaps THC -- most of the audience didn't seem to mind. "Cabin Fever," with
guitarist Matt Hollywood on vocals, evoked fervent applause, while "Wisdom" met cries
of exhalation.
Speaking of classics, the crowd went wild when Newcombe configured the lyrics of
"Sue" San Francisco-style to "all alone she lives on Haight Street." One woman even
kept her hand in the air, clenching and unclenching her fist to the meandering ebb and
flow of the hum and whirl for the song's entire eight-and-a-half minutes.
As the night wore on, the energy continued to escalate, exceeding expectations again for
the last leg of a long tour. The crowd let loose with "That Girl Suicide," crooned along
with "Oh Lord" (including a breathtaking silence followed by a collective "Whoa-oh")
and made some haphazard crowd-surfing attempts throughout the last three songs.
Finally Joel thanked us ("You guys have been great") and the band exited the stage,
leaving the whole room in a wake of whirring reverb. We waited for a full five minutes,
patient, expectant, a few power ballad lighters waving hopefully in the air and then ...
house lights.
Garsh darn it, you got us again. What was that guy telling me about between songs?
Something about "
keeping music evil?" Well, Anton, maybe you haven't really changed
that much, after all.
Critic's Notebook
Personal Bias: Score another I-told-you-so to the friend that
suggested I go to this show. I've always liked Brian Jonestown Massacre, but now I'm a
believer.
Random Detail: Joel Gion deejayed jungle/drum and bass from his laptop between sets.
By the way: The opening band, Portland's
Federale are world-class whistlers
and play some of darkest desperado music I've ever heard.