Aural Fixations

THE BRIAN JONESTOWN MASSACRE
Tepid Peppermint Wonderland: A Retrospective
(Tee Pee)
After a decade-plus of existence, San Francisco's Brian Jonestown Massacre is finally expanding its audience beyond its devoted cult. Unfortunately, this is due less to its consistency and hard work as a recording act and more due to its appearance in DiG!, a documentary film that reached people not only outside of the BJM's fan club, but also folks who aren't necessarily underground music fans. The movie portrays BJM leader Anton Newcombe as, to be frank, a schizophrenic asshole, his monomaniacal vision of psychedelic rock constantly at war with his own self-destructive impulses. Whether it's an accurate assessment or not—Newcombe claims to be the victim of biased editing, though that's hardly an excuse for his more abusive behavior—isn't the subject here. (We'll save that for the DVD review.) What's at stake here is the music, as summarized on the band's recent two-disk best-of Tepid Peppermint Wonderland: A Retrospective. Plenty of fans and would-be fans may not be able to separate the songs and the singer and get so turned off by the figure depicted in DiG! that they won't allow themselves to enjoy the records. That's a shame, in my opinion; as Tepid Peppermint Wonderland amply demonstrates, the catalog of the Brian Jonestown Massacre has riches aplenty.

There are three things one should know about the BJM before diving into these waters. One: this is an auteur band. Other members may make significant contributions, but the vision is purely Newcombe's. Nothing happens on a BJM record that he didn't want to happen. Two: discipline and tight construction aren't exactly paramount in the band's worldview. Newcombe is far more concerned with capturing a feeling than a flawless performance. That's not to say BJM tracks are shambolic messes (though that's occasionally true of live shows), but loose arrangements, sloppy playing, bum notes, first-draft lyrics and shaky vocals are the norm. The vibe is everything, and you can't sustain a vibe if you record a part over and over a hundred times until you get it "right." Three: the band's sound is essentially a pastiche of psychedelic rock sounds of different decades. Newcombe lifts bits of 80s icons like Echo & the Bunnymen, the Television Personalities and Spacemen 3 and snatches of 90s practitioners like My Bloody Valentine and the Charlatans and drops them into a stew comprised primarily of 60s psychedelic references appropriated from the Velvet Underground, Love, the Electric Prunes and various other famous and obscure Summer of Love entities. (And yes, as might be divined from the group's name and the title of its second album Their Satanic Majesties' Second Request, Newcombe has an unusual fondness for the Rolling Stones' bizarre stab at psychedelia, Their Satanic Majesties' Request.) Newcombe and BJM concoct their own distinctive sound out of these familiar (some might say hackneyed) elements, to be sure, but they fit firmly and happily under the psychedelic rock banner, not bothering with any attempts to forge an original sound. Songs and vibe rule the BJM universe; craft and invention definitely come second.

Which brings us back home, finally, to Tepid Peppermint Wonderland. The record presents two disks' worth of examples of the BJM's mastery of psychedelic rock and pop taken from all ten of the band's records (save one—more on that below), plus singles, live cuts and unreleased tracks, with liner note commentary for each song. You want heartfelt, acid-tweaked folk rock? Check out "Stars" or "Open Heart Surgery." Prefer tougher, earthier rock & roll? Scan over to the back-to-back kickers "In My Life" and "Mary Please." Rather immerse yourself in gorgeous waves of noisy dream pop? Try "Evergreen" (the band's first single) or the live epic "Swallowtail." Think Bob Dylan is as psychedelic as anyone ever got? Newcombe might agree with you on "Mansion in the Sky" and "Talk-Action=Shit." Think a psych album just isn't complete without some whimsical tomfoolery? "#1 Hit Jam" and "All Around You (Intro)" are for you. There's unrefined garage rock ("Oh Lord"), psychedelic epics ("Sue"), deliberate rewrites of 60s tracks ("Sailor," originally a tune by the Cryan Shames), unabashed emotional vomit ("Fucker"), a playful poke at a rival (the Dandy Warhols-baiting "Not If You Were the Last Dandy on Earth," written by bassist Matt Hollywood) and plenty of crystalline pop tunes ("This is Why You Love Me," "When Jokers Attack," "If Love is the Drug," "Who?"). Newcombe even steps aside to let a friend take the mic on "Starcleaner," written and plaintively sung by the Lovetones' Matthew Tow. Amazingly, in 38 tracks there's not a clunker to be found. Whatever his casual attitudes toward other aspects of the musician's craft, Newcombe's devotion to strong melodies, well-structured songs and the integrity of the performances easily overcomes any faults. Don't be deceived by the description of Newcombe's methodology. This isn't a so-bad-it's-good endorsement; the music contained here is legitimately, consistently excellent, with its flaws as much a part of the overall feel as the abundant hooks.

The only thing that keeps Tepid Peppermint Wonderland from being complete is the lack of tracks from Strung Out in Heaven, the BJM's lone album made for TVT Records, one of the most monied and well-established indie labels in the business. Released in 1998 after what all agree was a particularly arduous recording process (due either to constant record company interference or Newcombe's peaking smack addiction, depending on who you ask), the album is a surprisingly tight, disciplined collection of exceptionally strong psychedelic pop songs. It's one of the band's best records, and the first one to tweak the noses of indie rock fans outside of the band's cult. I don't know if TVT refused to license tracks from the album, or if Newcombe's memories are so embittered he deliberately excluded its material from consideration, but it's disappointing not to have any of its fine songs in the mix here. And that's the only thing that keeps this retrospective from being a definitive piece of work. Otherwise Tepid Peppermint Wonderland makes a most convincing argument for the relevance of the music from the Brian Jonestown Massacre, as unflinching and magnificent a portrait of creating beauty out of chaos as we can ever hope to find. Michael Toland [buy it]