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Brian Jonestown Massacre
The Forum, Melbourne, Tuesday, November 21
★★
Those who stayed to the bitter end of the shambolic, abusive and ultimately violent show from American psychedelic rock act Brian Jonestown Massacre in Melbourne on Tuesday night got to witness something few attendees at the mighty Forum ever see: the coming down of the safety curtain.
But by then, it was far too late. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong in a show that had fistfights, f— yous to the band and the audience, and an enormous amount of faffing about between songs. And, just occasionally, it had some great music too.
Anton Newcombe, the frontman of American psychedelic rock act Brian Jonestown Massacre.Credit: Principal Entertainment/Facebook
Frontman Anton Newcombe’s battles with drug and alcohol abuse over the years have been well documented. In Sydney last week he shouted at the audience, ordered one of the guitarists to leave the stage, and seemed close to an altercation with another. In the crowd, meanwhile, a scuffle broke out. Plenty of fans left early as a result of the on-stage acrimony.
On Tuesday in Melbourne, Newcombe appeared to be “tired and emotional”, as they say in the business, from the get-go as he began with a long anecdote about having been held up at knifepoint with the tour promoter outside his hotel earlier that day.
“I explained to them one thing,” he said of his assailant. “A knife won’t stop me. I will make you eat it, punch you in the stomach, stab you in the leg, grab you by the hair and drag you to the police, so get to f—.”
Despite the defiance, the incident had taken its toll on him. “I expended most of the voice that I wanted to give to you,” he said. “Unfortunately, on this day, all I can give you is everything I have.”
At its best, his singing voice is a low whisper. On this night, it was a barely audible mumble. The four guitars (often 12-string), bass, drums and tambourine nonetheless set up an impressive wall of swirling, psychedelic sound. Had it not been for the lengthy interludes between songs it might have been magnificent, despite the limitations of Newcombe’s voice. Instead, it was just a mess.
Many in the audience grew tired of the gaps – up to three or four minutes – between songs, and the torrent of abuse Newcombe hurled at the crowd, and left early. Apparently, telling Australian concertgoers that they’re a bunch of convicts who are lucky not to be speaking Japanese-accented German doesn’t go down too well. Who knew?
Those who fled the scene of this slow-burning crime against entertainment missed out on the real showstopper, though. Newcombe had grown increasingly tetchy with his six bandmates throughout the set, and finally guitarist Ryan Van Kriedt had clearly had enough. He took a swing at the band leader, chased him around the stage and wrestled him to the floor.
As the pair grappled, stage crew rushed on and pulled them apart. Finally, Newcombe sat alone on top of an amplifier, and the rigid safety curtain descended to a chorus of boos and cries of “go to rehab” from the crowd.
There were those watching who detected in all this an element of WWE-style pantomime. There was a suspicion it might all have been a piece of situationist anti-rock theatre, a little like the infamous Sex Pistols show at the Winterland in San Francisco – this band’s hometown – where Johnny Rotten asked the audience “ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?”
Many at the Forum did. But whether the show was a sham or merely a shambles, there’s little chance anyone who saw it through to the end will ever forget it.
Contact the author at [email protected], follow him on Facebook at karlquinnjournalist and on Twitter @karlkwin, and read more of his work here.
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