Okay, so long time, no follow up. What can I say? I'm busy with things related to the other blog. However, after last night, I just had to post something over here.
In the previous post I said that I was heading to a BJM gig later that evening. Well, head over, early no less, with some friends, I did. To our intense dismay there was a line of at least 100 people waiting for the 50 day-of tix available. What the second 50 were doing there since they obviously weren't getting in is anybody's guess, but I digress. Needless to say, I didn't make the show.
So imagine my pleasure at having scored a ticket for last night's BJM show at The Independent. Unfortunately I had another engagement earlier in the evening and wasn't sure I would make it. However, the gods were on my side and I entered the venue around 11:15pm or so, about the time I expected Anton and the fellas to be on stage.
Now here's the part where I refer you back to the movie DIG!. Anyone who has seen the film will know what a nutjob Anton Newcombe is, or in his mind, that he was made out to be. Well folks, I can tell you from firsthand experience now that he is indeed a total nutter and that what one sees in the movie is what one gets on stage.
So what did I get?
- A band that didn't come on stage until after midnight - the show was to begin around 10:00pm.
- A shirtless, strung-out lead singer off his head.
- A lead singer who started the set by going off on a LONG, rambling, incoherent spasm of the mouth encompassing everything from the hurricane in the Gulf to his own greatness. Oh, and much ado about a "bad" guitar string which ended up taking about 20 minutes to replace.
- A lead singer who berated just about everyone in the place from the lighting guy to the sound guy to several members of the audience.
- Fight challenges to said lighting guy, sound guy, and audience members from the lead singer.
- Numerous threats to walk off stage and abandon the gig by the lead singer.
- THREE AND A HALF songs during the course of an hour!
You know, I felt really badly for the other members of the band. They weren't spared Anton's wrath and gamely put on patient faces. They can take comfort in the fact, however, that they really rocked on the three songs that Anton let them perform, especially drummer Daniel Allaire, despite Newcombe's insistence sabotaging the show.
After one more invective-laden tirade I called it quits. I walked out wondering if what I'd just witnessed was a farce or some strange exercise in Dadaism. Regardless, Newcombe has certainly attained that rare status of becoming a parody of himself. (Check out the movie - you'll understand what I mean.)
Thanks for the three songs, Anton. I'm really glad I wasted $15 to watch your dumbass antics. It's a shame because you could have rocked. I, like the friends I went with, have seen my last BJM show.