Here's a good review of the recently re-released Spacegirl CD: Brian Jonestown Massacre
Spacegirl & Other Favorites
2003 Bomp!
Anton Newcombe is somewhat of a screwball, but he’s
also one of the most impressive musical talents of his
generation. He’s created an immense legacy in a short
period of time and most it demands to be heard. That’s
why the first CD appearance of the Brian Jonestown
Massacre’s Spacegirl And Other Favorites is an event
to be reckoned with—because it’s one of the last
remaining pieces of the Anton repertoire that has
remained unavailable, and it’s a formative part of
understanding the evolution of the genius that is
Anton, mainly because it’s some of his earliest
recordings.
Newcombe has always been somewhat Frank Zappa-like as
far as documenting virtually every phase of his
musical development (he mentions in the liner notes of
this CD that there remains 800 hours of unreleased
stuff). He’s also ruled the roost with a similarly
dictatorial style as Zappa. He says here in the liner
notes that "I had tought (sic) a few of my friends
everything I knew about music and we started playing
shows together as the BJM." This very statement reeks
of Beefheart, Zappa or James Brown single-mindedness.
But those are of course some of the greatest ever, and
Anton has always assumed that he could just waltz
right into the pantheon and stand alongside these and
other greats—and he’s gone ahead and done it. The only
comparison in contemporary music—say, the last twenty
years—is Scott Miller of Game Theory/the Loud Family,
another creative genius who’s never steered too far
from a single-minded vision. God bless ‘em both, and
they both hail from the San Fran area. Grumpus, the
Donnas, Miller, Anton, Big Midnight, Vue, the Cuts,
the Warlocks—there’s no question the Bay Area has the
best music scene in the country, and has for a few
years. The Jones-clown has been an utmost part of
that, and it all began with this album.
In many ways, the Jonestown is analogous to the
Jefferson Airplane. Remember, both groups lived
communally in a big house in the middle of the
Haight—one in the sixties, one in the nineties. So if
that’s the case, Take it from the Man was After
Bathing at Baxter’s and that last one they put out was
Bark. And this one is, at best, Takes Off or maybe
Early Flight.
Bomp, the band’s label, has always been supportive of
Anton, releasing virtually everything the Jonestown
produced. Anton has gone from full-blown mod madness
(Take It From The Man) to fractured acoustic hymns
(Thank God For Mental Illness) and most of it has been
on the Bomp label... except this, which amounts to the
first BJM album, originally released on the San Fran
indie Candy Floss... although as Anton explains in the
liner notes, it is the Brian Jonestown Massacre in
name only, since Anton often plays all the
instruments, with occasional embellishments from
friends. There is no personnel listing on the album
and I guess none is needed. The original vinyl record,
which has been long gone, actually came out after
Methodrone, their "official" first album. So this is
actually the first Jonestown album.
Not only do you get the original album, but you get a
lot of odds and ends—excluding what I consider the
greatest Brian Jonestown song ever, "Good Morning
Girl," which is promised on the CD label but
unfortunately never comes. But otherwise it’s all
here: the great celestial hovering classic, "Thoughts
of You," which was a prime influence on Abunai among
others and was originally from some obscure singles
collection in the mid-nineties that the tech nerds who
were making $50-an-hour at the time had money to buy.
The Jonesclown of course hails from Silicon Valley, so
everything connects. One of my favorites is the
absolutely epic "Hide and Seek." The version here is
one of three that are known to exist—this song is
famous for being the one where Anton does his Sonic
Youth imitation. Is there any doubt he totally blows
them away in the same way Malcolm Yelvington outslayed
Elvis or the Other Half beat the Stones? It’s totally
true, and it’s only the most obvious example of how
Anton can totally take his influences and better them
at their own game—which is truly the mark of musical
genius. This song features acidic guitar lines that
are all over the road by the third verse—but still
harmoniously contained in yet another one of Mr.
Newcombe’s little symphonies.
Among the other extra tracks are "Never, Ever,"
another obscure single, in which rattling tambourines
mingle with celestial guitars. Here Anton milks
another one of his biggest influences, the Spacemen 3,
and once again tops those Brits at their own game.
There’s also always the prevalent influence of
original space cadet Syd Barrett and Anton is the only
one making music today who understands and appreciates
the value of the original psychedelic movement, which
was nothing less than the Renaissance of rock 'n'
roll. Whereas the Spacemen only had one good idea,
Anton has many—even if many of them are borrowed.
"Ashtray" for instance is an up-tempo purge that
sounds like U2 but of course is rendered with much
more mayhem and abandon.
As for the original Spacegirl album, it begins with
"Crushed," a droning opus based on a heavy riff that
opens with a wall of feedback that sounds like the
revving up of an engine. It’s more or less an exorcism
with maddening guitar work and Anton moaning the
snotnosed honky blues. "That Girl Suicide," a whirling
riff based on a hay-baling rhythm, with its use of
controlled feedback for anthemic purposes and
boundless VU-like energy, accomplishes the psychic-sex
marriage that Sonic Youth’s music only hints at.
"Deep in the Devil’s Eye and You" starts with the
exact same burst of feedback as "The Ghost" by the
Donner Party before swinging into the "I buried Paul"
fade-out of "Strawberry Fields Forever" and then
taking on a life of its own. How does this twisted
minstrel conceive this stuff? That’s what I want to
know. What this strange, hypnotic song exemplifies
most of all is Anton’s brilliant usage of the
studio-as-instrument a la Brian Wilson. He states in
the liner notes that upon meeting producer Naut Humon:
"My plan was to learn how to use the studio as an
instrument and make a recording of my life." It’s an
ambitious undertaking but the man is on a mission.
"Kid’s Garden," which eventually cropped up on the
Mental Illness album, once again resorts to Syd
Barrett disorientation while "When I Was Yesterday"—on
which Newcombe played every instrument—is a
barnstorming riff featuring an embryonic outer-coat of
thorny guitars that cut like thickets. Perhaps the
starkest track is the semi-title cut, "Spacegirl,"
which is just Anton trilling "let me love you" to a
hypnotic backdrop of almost raga-esque flourishes. It
sounds like Donovon more than anything. I should also
mention that Anton is the king of the long fade-out,
and this song is yet another example of how he learned
the lesson of "You Can’t Always get What You Want"
well (as "Straight Up and Down" already proved). He’s
also the master of the fade in, which is what
"Spacegirl (Revisited)" amounts to—mainly the same
riff creeping up on us again. Gotta love a man who
phrases his albums, even his first album,
thematically.
Then there’s the matter of "Good Morning Girl"... you
wait for it, and it never comes. That’s the joke, I
guess, and the joke is on you. Anton…the bastard! He
does it every time.
—Joe S. Harrington
July 2003
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For more information about the Brian Jonestown Massacre or the Committee to Keep
Music Evil please feel free to visit :
http://www.brianjonestownmassacre.com -
http://www.bomp.com .
http://www.homestead.com/the_real_bjm_website/pagetwo.html or
to sample our music (free mp3's stupid):
http://www.brianjonestownmassacre.com/mp3.php
