Draped in a projection of the French flag, the Melbourne Town Hall’s Grand Organ stood in all its colossal beauty waiting to breathe the music of The Brian Jonestown Massacre. The room swelled with a crowd perhaps unusual for this space, which is more used to housing appreciators of Mozart and Handel. Although it’s a stretch, after Sunday’s performance there are probably a few fans comparing Anton Newcombe’s band to those classical masterminds.
When I say Newcombe’sband, you best be sure I mean it. The man’s penchant for temper tantrums and slave-driving were spotlighted in the 2004 documentary Dig! Although the now-bespectacled Newcombe seemed to have calmed with age, he wielded his guitar like a cat o’ nine tails, whipping the band into action with the strike of a chord and little warning.
In the band’s 25-year history, they’ve amassed a huge back catalogue, giving them a veritable treasure trove of songs to choose from. Opening with Never Ever, the sound was immediately arresting and unforgiving, taking hold of every air molecule in the hall and refusing to let go.
Anticipation grew to hear the grand organ as the band played through Goodbye (Butterfly) and Anemone. When the doors to its throne at last opened, a mighty roar was an unleashed. The Cat Empire’s Ollie McGill captained it like a fried and frenzied Picard as vivid swirls of light enveloped the stage for a mind-bending ten-minute solo. Belgian/Australian singer Deborrah ‘Moogy’ Morgan was then welcomed on stage for Philadelphie Story accompanied by McGill.
Giving the organ a rest for the next hour or so, the band jumped all around their history including tracks What You Isn’t, Open Heart Surgery, Who and When Jokers Attack. The Devil May Care produceda tender moment in the ocean of brain boiling fuzz, and She’s Gone closed the evening with thundering accompaniment from McGill.
Leaving the venue, deafened punters yelled adulation and mistook strangers for friends on account of their sun flared retinas. The surroundings were both aesthetically and acoustically suited for BJM’s music, which let the depth and intricacy of the performance be truly felt. Such moments can be few and far between, but when they happen, the mind is truly opened to the infinite possibilities of sound.
BY RHYS MCRAE
Photo by Tegan Louise
Loved: The bowel shaking low register of the Grand Organ. Organsmic.
Hated: Why not more organ?
Drank: Remy Martin Louis XIII.
