Ondi Timoner’s 2004 documentary, DIG!, should be required viewing for all aspiring rock bands. It presents a warts and all insight into the desperate struggles to achieve fame and recognition while clinging to some semblance of artistic integrity. There’s nothing particularly glamorous about this process; desperation and frustration are the most common themes.
The film follows the fledging careers of The Brian Jonestown Massacre (BJM) & The Dandy Warhols over a seven-year period. Both bands are heavily influenced by druggy psychedelic rock of the 1960s and their respective career paths speak volumes about the current state of rock music and the record industry in general.
Courtney Taylor of The Dandy Warhols acts as the movie’s narrator and in the voiceover at the start of the film he says of BJM’s singer and songwriter: “Anton [Newcombe] is by far the craziest and most talented musician I have ever met …..he is my friend and my enemy; my greatest inspiration and,ultimately, my greatest regret”.
The reason why The Dandy Warhols have had the hits while BJM remain an underground cult is largely due to the self-destructive and violent antics of Newcombe, one of life’s perennial misfits memorably described as trying to “integrate his mystical vision with his messed up personality”. He occupies the classic (and clichéd) role of rock and roll victim battling against the straights in suits who cannot appreciate his self-proclaimed ‘genius’.
On the evidence of this movie, it’s clear that Newcombe is an intensely passionate artist but by no means the musical visionary he’s like to see himself as. His one man revolution is a lonely role and the miracle is that with his massive substance abuse and wasted lifestyle he has survived to tell the tale. It’s remarkable too that Timoner has been able to document his crazed endeavours so accurately, she keeps a low profile throughout and clearly won over his trust; no easy feat given that he seems to regard most who enter his circle as bitter rivals. She must have nerves of steel.
The camera is unwavering as we see Newcombe’s massive ego and rampant paranoia driving his battles against anything that smacks of compromise. This sets him on a collision course with record labels and members of his own band. Over 40 members have passed through BJM since they formed in San Francisco in 1990 , a phenomenal turnover matched only by Mark E. Smith and The Fall.
The film documents his on stage fights with his band and off stage tirades against the world – “I’m here to destroy this fucked up system” he rants fixing his demonic Charles Manson-like stare at the camera .
It becomes obvious that success would be the death of Newcombe – he sabotages shows set up to impress A & R men and blows record company advances on drugs. The Dandy Warhols , by way of contrast, stay relatively clean and focused – they don’t have an easy time of it with the major labels but strike lucky when a cell phone company uses ‘Bohemian Like Me’ in their TV ads.
If nothing else, the movie proves beyond doubt that there’s a fine line between fame and obscurity that is as much to do with dogged perseverance than talent. One record company insider says that 90% of new acts fail with the 10% who make it big covering all the losses. Newcombe has no intention of working within a business model as fucked as this. He prefers to remain tortured and misunderstood – it’s a solitary and desolate path but you get the real sense that this is the only thing that keeps him alive.
