Joel Gion, 34, was throwing a fit backstage at the Metreon's Action
Theater, knocking around a pile of bags and purses, shouting, "Where
are my f - - cigarettes?" He stomped out of the room and slammed the
door. This act was partly for the amusement of his new band members,
who were sprawled on a nearby couch sipping beer, and partly because
he was attempting to re-create the chaotic mood of the evening's
entertainment.
Tuesday marked the DVD release of "Dig!," the riveting documentary
exploring the destructive relationship and rivalry between star-
crossed rock bands Brian Jonestown Massacre and the Dandy Warhols.
Shot by director Ondi Timoner, the Sundance Grand Jury Prize-winning
film traces the wildly different paths the two groups take over a
seven-year period beginning when they first hook up in 1996.
The former ends up signed to a major label, makes a $400,000 video
with photographer David LaChapelle and fills stadiums in Europe. The
latter goes down in a hail of violence, drug-fueled paranoia and
just plain bad luck. The only thing that keeps them connected
through it all is their mutual jealousy.
Gion, who was there to witness all the drama firsthand as the famed
tambourine player for San Francisco's Brian Jonestown Massacre, has
been traveling with the film to various festivals (Sundance,
Slamdance, Rotterdam, Edinburgh and South by Southwest) since its
cinematic release last year, to offer handshakes, commentary and
answer questions such as, "What was the high point for you?" by
saying things like, "There was a point where I stayed up for five
days -- I was pretty high then."
The San Francisco screening conveniently marked the end of Gion's
promotional duties for "Dig!" Even as he politely mingled with fans,
friends and co-workers, he seemed relieved that in a few hours he
would never have to sit through the movie again. "I've had to see
this thing 30 times," he said.
After abruptly introducing "Dig!" to the gathered audience, Gion
ducked backstage. But the numerous monitors arranged around the
green room made it hard to avoid the spectacle on screen.
During a chaotic scene, Brian Jonestown Massacre leader Anton
Newcombe --
portrayed by Timoner as a heroin-addled megalomaniac -- sabotages an
important record-industry showcase for the band by ordering the
bouncers to beat up audience members. Gion was quick to defend his
old compatriot. "I think the movie focuses on a bad period for
Anton," he said.
He was equally forgiving of the band's bassist, Matt Hollywood, who
in another shot gutlessly kicks Gion in the face. "I attribute that
to a fifth of Jack Daniel's and a three-day binge on the pinkest
biker crank you can get," he said, before pointing out the resulting
scar just above his eyebrow.
But the bitterness toward the Dandy Warhols remains. At one point in
the film, fresh from signing their big record contract, the
Portland, Ore., group unexpectedly crashes Brian Jonestown
Massacre's ramshackle East Los Angeles home for an opportunistic
photo shoot. "This is what started the feud," Gion said. "This is
what set everything off."
He was equally sour on Peter Hayes, the BJM guitarist who quit the
band to form the considerably more successful Black Rebel Motorcycle
Club. "I ran into him at Sundance and he asked me why I call him a
stupid f -- hippie in the film," Gion said. "I told him, 'Well,
because you were.' "
In the battle between the sellouts and failures, the Dandy Warhols
come off as calm, cool individuals for whom everything easily falls
into place. BJM, meanwhile, keeps landing itself in real-life
moments that are more Spinal Tap than Spinal Tap: Newcombe delivers
individualized shotgun shells to the members of the Dandy Warhols at
a Purple Onion show. Gion gets sent to New York to sign a deal with
a cluster of fast-talking, pony-tailed record-company executives.
Harry Dean Stanton drops by the band's house for an impromptu jam
session. And then there is the barrage of onstage punch-ups and
roadside disasters.
Even if it doesn't cast his former band in the most flattering
light, Gion is happy someone was there to get it all on tape. "One
of the greatest things about this movie is that it's like looking
through an old album," he said. "It's like, oh yeah, that happened."
At the same time, he's eager to put his BJM days behind him. He
turned down the invitation to narrate "Dig!," handing off the task
to Dandy Warhol's front man Courtney Taylor. "I wasn't quite ready
to be the spokesman for all this jive," he said.
Meanwhile, he used Tuesday night's event to introduce his new band,
the Dilettantes, a group that mines the same '60s-inspired groove as
his former outfit, only without the outward psychodrama.
It's a better reflection of where Gion's life is heading these days.
He's off the drugs ("Once it got to be un-fun, I stopped cold"),
working a steady job at Amoeba Music on Haight Street and, after
years of couch-surfing, living in his own studio apartment on Nob
Hill. "Now I feel like I'm mainlining San Francisco," he said.
More importantly, with the Dilettantes, Gion no longer shakes the
maracas in someone else's shadow but takes center stage as the lead
singer and main songwriter, even if with his knit cap and hands in
his pockets he looks unusually subdued. "I'm just finding myself,"
Gion said.
Still, he said as the credits started rolling on the monitors,
looking back on all the chaos, abuse and wasted potential he endured
with the Brian Jonestown Massacre, he didn't regret a thing. "I had
a blast," Gion said. "All I had to do was show up with a tambourine
and have fun."
