Take a band that blend the best and worst of The Stones, The Velvets, The Pistols and The Byrds. Stir in a front-man who is discussed in the same breath as Dylan and Lennon-McCartney, and elsewhere as having the messianic vision of Jesus Christ, Charlie Manson and Adolf Hitler. Shovel in industrial quantities of coke, dope and smack. Fold in drug busts, on-stage brawls, repeated break-ups, Harry Dean Stanton and the occasional boot in the head for narky punters. The result is the extraordinary, tragic and heart-breakingly self-destructive story of The Brian Jonestown Massacre (fronted by the workaholic egomaniac-cum-musical genius Anton Newcombe, who has more in common with Brian Wilson than Brian Jones) and the parallel rise of their erstwhile friends, The Dandy Warhols. In a good year for music documentaries (Ramones: End of the Century, Metallica: Some Kind of Monster), DiG! is on a par with Julian Temple's The Filth and the Fury. Director Timoner amassed over 1500 hours of documentary footage while following both bands around for over eight years, and the distilled essence is the rawest, purest rock 'n' roll. If there's a caveat it's that there isn't enough of BJM's music, and way too much of The Dandy Warhol's thudding indie rock-lite; that the film is narrated by the Dandy Warhol's Courtney Taylor is a stroke of brilliance, however. Even as he comments on Newcombe's ever-downward spiral and compares it with the Dandy Warhol's inexorable rise, there's a wistful note to Courtney's smug triumphalism. For Newcombe, success and credibility were (and still are) mutually exclusive - even as he blows his final shot at the big time, going back on heroin as he records a studio-funded album, he still has the cojones to call it 'Strung out in Heaven'. The Dandy Warhols eventually had to get a barring order against Newcombe after he sent them individually wrapped shotgun cartridges - but even at that, they still continued to buy his records. Shine on, you crazy, crazy diamond.
