An occasional look at some of the defining moments on Moshcam
It’s not just Anton Newcombe of course, mesmerising as he is. With Joel Gion centrestage (Soul Brother Number One or gratuitous mascot depending on your relationship with the tambourine), the entire band digs deep into a place where barely defined melody and a percussive heat somehow coalesce into the psychotropic stylings that define BJM in full effect.
We’re almost 3 hours into a show that has seen Anton trade his fragile interest between the Jonestown back catalogue and a series of monologues that become increasingly tangential yet morbidly compelling as the night wears on. He has decided that people are not paying sufficient attention and won’t be getting another song until they do. We are treated to digression on dairy manufacturing “You churn the butter, you churn the butter” (repeat ad infinium) and some frankly slanderous comments about public figures we daren’t repeat here.
And then, just when it looks like he might leave us high and dry, reaching for a defining moment that would never arrive, they pull out a version of Swallowtail that burns with such ragged incandescence that we are left scorched and satiated.
The 8 minutes of distortion and feedback that follows is nothing les than a blue pill from Wonderland, bringing us gently back to where we came in.
Watch the whole gig here
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