The Brian Jonestown Massacre,The Lovetones @ The Arena,Brisbane (27/08/2008)

Sat 30th Aug, 2008 in Gig Reviews

Check out our photos from this extraordinary show.

Expectation is such a powerful emotion. Events can be catapulted into the realm of legend or squashed into the depths of regret and disappointment depending on what your expectations are and how completely they come to pass. So, if you have come to this account of The Brian Jonestown Massacre gig at the Arena on Wednesday night seeking a tale of band disharmony, heated exchanges with the crowd or acts of random violence with a musical weapon, it is only fair to advise you now that you will read on unfulfilled. For those expecting a tale of inspired musicianship and a killer live performance, you will not be disappointed. Quite simply, it rocked.

Although not sold out, people were packed into the floor and mezzanine spaces of the venue early, vying for the prime positions from which to view the stage. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and The Warlocks t-shirts littered the crowd, giving a nod to bands spawned by previous members of the ever-changing BJTM line up. The mix of people in the crowd was testament to the wide popularity of the Brian Jonestown sound. From skinny jean indie kids to swingin’ 60’s grandparents, all were visibly excited, and ready for a live taste of Anton Newcombe’s musical revolution.

Opening with signature single, Mantra, The Lovetones were a fitting support musically and stylistically; embracing the modern retrospective vibe of psychodelic organ, crisp drums, layered harmonies and jangly guitar. It drew the crowd right in and set knees to bending in common indie dance languidness. Other tracks from their 2005 release Meditations, (I Gotta) Feel and Stars were also received well; the performance was tight and the sound generally good considering how badly The Arena’s speakers usually deal with distortion. However the band’s perceived lack of stage presence saw them lose the audience when the tempo dropped for slower songs and new offerings from their release from last year Axiom slid by with no hooks to keep them distinct from those that had come before. Notable omission from the set was The Sound And The Fury, which would have been a fantastic closer, the band choosing instead to wind up with an extended version of Navigator – not quite enthralling enough to be jammed out to, but the punters were generous in their applause all the same.

From the recent deluge of interviews with Anton about The Brian Jonestown Massacre’s Australian tour, it was anticipated that a new maturity would be present on stage; the chaos purveyed through modern lore and filmic documentation somewhat blown apart by articles characterised by polite, thoughtful conversation and insightful commentary on world events. Thus, checking our expectations at the bar, we confidently moved onto the sticky dance floor knowing that, at the very least, we were about to experience a performance by one of the greatest musical visionaries of our time. And then the orchestral ambience of sonic organ drawls began, the band took to the stage and all attention turned to arguably the central entertainer of the night, Joel Gion.

Joel, the nonchalant centre of the cool universe, minced his way to the mic at centre stage, shaking his tambourine at us from behind dark sunglasses and black train driver cap. “Hello hello.” he said, the instantly recognisable chord riff of Whoever You Are sliding out of the speakers behind him. The rest of the band had moved into position to set the scene for the arrival of Anton. Pleasantly disarming, there was no big entrance, just the commencement of guitar and a very well-known voice. “Where’s Anton?” was an audible question, “I don’t know man, I can hear him though.” Anton is spied in his usual position on stage right, shielded behind one of those blasted poles The Arena is often derided for.

The following set was full of Brian Jonestown classic masterpieces. Nailing Honey to the Bee and The Devil May Care were effortlessly delivered in quick succession. Each note and beat registered clearly; the sound, bang on. Possibly the preciseness of the delivery was due to every band member except for Joel watching Anton with a metered intensity. The conductor of seven separate musicians, he watches and hears all, repeatedly conferencing within and between songs without impacting the general flow of proceedings… for a while.

Yeah-Yeah from My Bloody Underground provided a taste of the new and founded the view that while there are many eclectic sounds on their latest release, there are few departures from what has come, and been widely adored, before. Vacuum Boots and Hide & Seek were infinitely enjoyable, Daniel Allaire’s drum work impeccable in its accuracy and decisiveness, regardless of being the obvious brunt of any of Anton’s dissatisfaction throughout the night. Whoo was a definite highlight, with everyone singing along and raising their arms at the appropriate moments as though on a rollercoaster. When Joker’s Attack, Sailor and Nevertheless were faultless, rapturous, it appeared that the expected maturity had arrived. Frankie Teardrop then took to the microphone to shoutily belt out another new song from Underground, Golden Frost. The sheer repetitive noise of this track and particularly the vocals added another dimension to the new stable, invoking the notion that this is how new bands are borne to BJTM. The guitarist is given voice, tutored and then set free.

While it is clear that Anton’s enormous talent warrants all the descriptions of him as musical genius, the live experience confirms more recognition needs to go to those forming his band. On a couple of extended occasions during the set, Anton and Joel mysteriously disappeared from the stage, leaving the rest of the band to entertain the extremely patient crowd. The first of these interludes demonstrated further the skill of drummer Allaire, and the intuitive nature of both Rob Campanella’s work on the keys and Frankie Teardrop’s guitar.

Whether by design or no, it was these long pauses that would have provided Anton with an opportunity to berate any hecklers, his return to the stage often initiating another pointed conference with Allaire, but generally everyone kept their cool. So through the virtue of patience, and the presence of Joel calming any ripples in an otherwise placid environment on stage, the night progressed without incident. Had it not been for these periods of noodling, it could almost be described as a “normal” gig.

When Anton and Joel returned from their last sojourn offstage, Servo initiated a rally cry from the dance floor yet failed to be delivered with the gusto and energy deserving of this cult-inspiring track. The pace had slowed somewhat and some of Anton’s lyrics had also become unclear. A brand new song, as yet unreleased, didn’t offer any significant departure from classic BJTM and as the instrumental interludes started to drag, the audience thinned. Was this another test? A way to sort the wheat from the chaff perhaps? Those who remained were rewarded for their commitment; a ripping version of Anemone getting everyone dancing again – just with more space to move. As bassist Willie B Carruthers thanked us all very sincerely for coming out to see them on their first stop of the tour, the exquisite high notes of predicted closer Swallowtail echoed through the room, their last song jammed out with Joel animatedly swinging and machine gunning us with his many tambourines. He bid us farewell on the band’s behalf and they all left the stage quietly, the words on the back of Anton’s jacket ringing true as the tinitus in our ears: The Kingdom of God Is In.