The Brian Jonestown Massacre @ O2 Institute
The Brian Jonestown Massacre cruised into Brum’s O2 Institute, led by the mysterious Anton Newcombe at the hypnotic helm.
With their reputation as unpredictable as their music, I didn’t quite know what to expect from this legendary band. Stories of backstage drama, tantrums, and walkouts set the stage for a night filled with uncertainty as I made my way to Digbeth. Would I find these rumours to be true?
Taking the Trip
I was long overdue to check out this classic psychedelic rock band. The coolest of cool cats in school had long recommended their music, and although I hadn’t listened much to their extensive catalogue, it was clear BJM was more than just a band—it was a cult. As I tuned into my inner psychedelic angst-filled teenager, I took their advice and took the trip.
Grace and Power
Opening the night were Stockholm’s Les Big Byrd, a band I hadn’t heard of but one that quickly won over the BJM crowd. Their set was a mesmerizing fusion of 60s-inspired psychedelia, trip-hop, and shoegaze. Wah-wah guitars and echoing delay pedals filled the air, while the drummer’s dynamic performance shifted between grace and power. Their sound had a dark, haunting quality that reminded me of The Velvet Underground and even featured a synth sound akin to The Warriors soundtrack. This is a band I’ll be keeping a keen eye on from now on.
Hypnotic Glow
As the crowd waited for Newcombe and his hypnotic crew of psychedelic warriors to take the stage, the sunglasses-clad band members sauntered in, ready to perform. With a collection of vintage guitars and amps, my inner gearhead couldn’t help but envy their impressive setup. Once the music began, it was clear that I was in for a real treat. The room was filled with the warm, hypnotic glow of psychedelia, and the steady Californian stoner grooves made me feel right at home.
BJM is a band that takes its time—whether they clearly discuss whether to change a key of a song prior to performing it, or delaying a song in favour of tuning their instruments. Normally, this would test my patience, but there was something about their laid-back demeanour that made it all feel part of the experience. A tambourine’s gentle shake guided us through the short stops at the stations during our trip, with them ocassionally drawling pecuiliar tales about their day.
Super-Sonic
The only sign of tension came when Newcombe kicked a monitor to adjust it, or when his guitar malfunctioned, causing him to remove his glasses in a frenzied micro-panic, soon to be sorted by the stage technicians. These moments, however, added to the spontaneous, intimate vibe, like an unplugged session. Newcombe’s guitar playing, echoing Neil Young’s style, brought a vulnerability to the stage that was hard to ignore. And being able to feel the low end as I danced at the front of the stage really benefited the experience, as I gathered an appreciation for their simple but soulful rhythm section.
They ended with Super-Sonic, one of their most atmospheric tracks. The five-minute guitar intro was a lesson in sitar-like playing, creating a meditative atmosphere that momentarily transported me away from the crowd and into my own paisley-pattered headspace. It confirmed what I had heard all along—this band is the real deal, and yes, I am somewhat initiated into their cult.
Initially, I doubted the idea of a slick stage show after the band was known for internal conflict, but my expectations were shattered. The Brian Jonestown Massacre isn’t just a band; they’re a true force in rock and psychedelia, a group of living legends who continue to shape the landscape of music with authenticity and passion. Their unorthodox Californian stoner attitude combined with their keen sense of artistry resulted in one hell of a show, and one that I will always talk about when discussing my all-time favourite rock shows.
