San Francisco shoegaze-pyschedelic act Brian Jonestown Massacre isn’t for everyone–few have the patience to endure BJM’s current incarnation of endlessly droning jam sessions and repetitive waves of distortion. Nevertheless, for those who do have that patience, BJM makes for an intense, spacey trip, and those fans will easily sink into the band’s latest release, “Who Killed Sgt. Pepper?”, which sees the band merging its usual “far-out” experimental aesthetic with fuzzy dance beats, holding tight to sounds long associated with drugs, space and the dance floor. Frontman Anton Newcombe’s supposed proficiency with more than eighty instruments–including the hurdy-gurdy, the samisen and the bagpipes–has naturally sent BJM into several interconnected genres, mostly successfully three Stones-esque garage rock albums in 1996, since recently sliding back into the neo-psychedelic racket. For fans with the time to delve into Newcombe’s deep, complex world, it’s surely rewarding; for everyone else, it’s best to just read the band’s killer song titles, like “Bring Me The Head of Paul McCartney on Heather Mill’s Wooden Peg (Dropping Bombs on the White House).” (Andy Seifert)
May 30 at Metro, 3730 North Clark, (773)549-0203, at 7pm. $21.
Still Breathtaking: A Preview of Sting at Ravinia Festival Sting's solo catalog boasts more than a dozen studio albums. He may not rack up the hit singles like he once did, but he remains a compelling writer, musician and performer.
Last Punks Standing: A Preview of Mekons at Hideout Mekons have endured by refusing to adhere to anyone's ideas regarding what is and isn't punk rock (which is in and of itself a defiantly punk attitude).
San Francisco shoegaze-pyschedelic act Brian Jonestown Massacre isn’t for everyone–few have the patience to endure BJM’s current incarnation of endlessly droning jam sessions and repetitive waves of distortion. Nevertheless, for those who do have that patience, BJM makes for an intense, spacey trip, and those fans will easily sink into the band’s latest release, “Who Killed Sgt. Pepper?”, which sees the band merging its usual “far-out” experimental aesthetic with fuzzy dance beats, holding tight to sounds long associated with drugs, space and the dance floor. Frontman Anton Newcombe’s supposed proficiency with more than eighty instruments–including the hurdy-gurdy, the samisen and the bagpipes–has naturally sent BJM into several interconnected genres, mostly successfully three Stones-esque garage rock albums in 1996, since recently sliding back into the neo-psychedelic racket. For fans with the time to delve into Newcombe’s deep, complex world, it’s surely rewarding; for everyone else, it’s best to just read the band’s killer song titles, like “Bring Me The Head of Paul McCartney on Heather Mill’s Wooden Peg (Dropping Bombs on the White House).” (Andy Seifert)
