Scary no more
06/06/2012 22:32
Having outgrown youthful wildness, Anton Newcombe is leading his band of psychedelic rockers into a new era.
The Brian Jonestown Massacre. Photo: Courtesy/PR
If you ask Anton Newcombe if he’s a less scary figure these days, his response
is “Is that a trick question?” That’s because Newcombe, the guiding light behind
the ominously-titled alternative rock heroes The Brian Jonestown Massacre
doesn’t necessarily think he was ever scary or threatening – even when he was
leading his psychedelic revivalists on occasionally chaotic and unpredictable
performance art excursions throughout the 1990s and beyond.
Rising to
underground popularity thanks to a series of albums since 1990 that
simultaneously aped and honored everyone from The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, The
Velvet Underground, Love and even Donovan, the band, named for the Stones’
visionary guitarist and the infamous 1978 mass suicide in Jonestown, Guyana,
really rose to cult status thanks to the 2004 documentary Dig! A contrasting
portrait of two bands – BJM and The Dandy Warhols – the film by Ondi Timoner,
which is still regularly screened on Israeli cable channels, won the Documentary
Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival, primarily for its riveting focus
on the volatile interaction between a drug-addled Newcombe and the Warhol’s
frontman Courtney Taylor- Taylor.
With an astounding number of personnel
changes, the band evolved into Newcombe’s personal vehicle. And recent years
have found the now clean-living 45-yearold California native relocating to
Berlin and releasing quirky BJM albums and EPs like 2008’s Just Like Kicking
Jesus in which he increasingly warmed to using pastiches of different well-known
song elements to create new music. Newcombe also started his own Ustream channel
called Dead TV where he cooks and chats with his audience via a Skype
connection.
However, recent events have propelled BJM back into the
spotlight.
Founding guitarist/bassist and songwriter Matt Hollywood
returned to the fold last year, and there was an upswing in the band’s profile
thanks to one of their songs, “Straight Up and Down” from their 1996 album Take
It From the Man being chosen as the theme to the popular HBO show Boardwalk
Empire.
With the revamped BMJ’s recent release of its 12th album, the band has returned to the indie limelight and has launched a
high-profile world tour which will see them arrive in Tel Aviv on July 11 for a
show at the Barby Club.
Catching up with Newcombe in an email interview
as he was rehearsing the revamped lineup, including Hollywood, bassist Will
Carruthers (formerly of Spaceman 3 and Spiritualized), guitarists Jon Saemunder
Audarson and Henrik Baldvin Bjornsson and drummer Constantine Karlis, the
articulate front-man defended the appropriation of existing art to create new
art.
“Pastiche is part and parcel of popular art, from Bob Dylan and The
Beatles to samples and remix culture,” said Newcombe.
“To me, it’s all
about what I as an artist have to add to the lexicon. In my heart, I know have
made a solid contribution. The music business tends to play up record sales,
dollars and volumes of units, but there is a whole other level of success, and
that is to being able to inspire others to study the arts, start groups,
magazines, record labels. I’m interested in the organic model of life and
building eco-systems.”
Newcombe has given BJM albums titles like Their
Satanic Majesties’ Second Request, and Bringing it All Back Home, Again in
homage to the Stones and Dylan, and has sampled everyone from Joy Division to
Anita Ward (“Ring My Bell”), said that he doesn’t intend to stop wearing his
influences on his sleeves.
“It’s my hope in the future to work on
soundtracks for film, not just have my music placed in a film but to do
something like [Italian composer] Ennio Morricone and truly make a great film
even better,” he said. “If and when I get the chance to do that, I think it
would be a great time to ‘honor’ people I respect by bringing them into the
project.”
DESPITE A seeming obsession with the macabre and a professed
interest in cults, Newcombe explained that the band’s name and persona were
installed more as buffer zones than pledges of allegiance to the
bizarre.
“I don’t really know where my interest in cults comes from,
perhaps it started with quasi-esoteric television like Leonard Nimoy’s In Search
of... series,” he said. “I enjoy non-fiction, don’t care for war movies or
slasher films and video games. But I am interested in belief systems, and
relating to my own group name, it’s interesting how cult leaders are like rock
stars in many ways. However, my goal was to be neither.”
“Let me clear up
something – 99 percent of my art deals with love on a spiritual level. I chose
to wrap the project in a certain abrasive icononography as a means of
selfpreservation, as I am acutely aware the business has a way of turning
beautiful songs into advertisements for feminine hygiene products and the like.
I chose to try and make it all too hot to handle and somewhat dangerous, like
some exotic fruit with spines... but very tasty.”
That spiciness flowed
over to the band’s live shows, which back in the day occasionally found both the
performers and the audience in shouting matches or worse. However, Newcombe held
no doubt that the band was always giving its best, even amid the
turbulence.
“For the most part, we showed up and played well. I wish in
retrospect that members of the group would have perhaps understood how unique
some of those concerts were, besides the fact of just being able to travel and
making a living from what you do, your art,” he said.
”You have to
remember that when we started, there were zero bands like us in America, and
very few on Earth. Some people react in negative ways to things they don’t
understand. We represented a certain amount of freedom, and some, hearing tales
of riots, would come to try and provoke a reaction and we would have to stand up
for ourselves or leave. It’s much better now, this is old news.”
The new
news is the resurgent BJM and a happy Newcombe enthused about the new album
Aufheben and riding high on playing and writing with Hollywood
again.
“It’s quite hard to write and record with me because I tend to
come up with complete ideas all once, symphonic even if rough, while Matt tends
to be thoughtful and refines his words and parts,” he said. “The strong point is
that we truly learned to teach each other how to play music, so there is a
connection, like ‘twins’ on a certain level, where we know where an idea is
headed from the genesis. That can be powerful when communication is
working.”
According to Newcombe, communication played a big role in the
concept for Aufheben – meaning both “to lift up” and “to abolish” in German. A
student of eschatology (the theology concerned with the end of days), Newcombe
envisioned a concept for people who showed anxiety over the projected 2012 end
of the world.
“The cover art is based on the Carl Sagan graphic included
as a part of the Voyager space program – two probes that were sent to the outer
reaches of the solar system and beyond, each containing information describing
who we are, our location in our solar system and audio examples of hundreds of
greetings in every language, as well as music like Bach, in order to reach out
to... I don’t know... intelligent life elsewhere,” he said.
“I thought it
would have been funny if a scientist or someone added one word on this plaque:
‘aufheben.’ It’s a word with... to destroy and to preserve. If you think about
German culture and relate it to the history of the last century, society had to
destroy it to save and rebuild, as a way to preserve.
Without getting too
heavy, the implication is a suggestion to these unknown aliens or
whatever... that the Earth be destroyed in order to be saved. It’s
tongue-in-cheek – it’s obvious that we love the beautiful parts of life, and
could do with less of the filth, fear and hatred.”
Newcombe said that his
move to Berlin has exposed him to a side of German culture and society that he
finds more appealing than the US, both from the viewpoint of being a celebrity
and as an ordinary resident.
“Berlin leave me alone, and I love that
about this place. Germans are very civil for the most part, as a culture they
just don't get in your face ever,” he said.
“Berlin has made a very solid
effort to support the arts, so much so that it attracts great people here, and
it’s a very safe place for women and children. To be honest, it seems to me that
a certain new type of fascism is creeping into the Western world, not just
right-wing extremists, but from top to bottom. Most of us want and demand to be
safe, and that is understood and accepted.
However, it occurred to me
that because of its history, this would be the last place that either the police
or the people could ever look and act like fascists... and that, to me, is worth
more than gold. The people will not stand for any of it and that is a beautiful
thing.”
One offshoot of living in a city like Berlin, where 150,000
Israelis reside, is that Newcombe has become familiar with Israeli culture and
friendly with many Israelis.
“I follow the Israeli arts scene because,
you know, to me it’s just the ‘arts scene,’ he said. “I think it’s great to be a
part of any forward-thinking culture, and very important for the Jewish community
to define itself in Berlin and Germany.
It speaks volumes about the
business of life, and moving forward, and it’s a very powerful lesson to
humanity. It really defines the human spirit, and when standing side by side
with the history, it’s inspiring to me.”
And that inspiration is passed
down through his music to the rest of us. That doesn’t seem scary at all.