I think it was my second day after moving to Portland in early 1994 when I first saw The Dandy Warhols. I instantly hated them. They were arrogant, obnoxious attention whores. I couldn’t decide who was more pathetic, them or their fans (who insisted on calling them “The Dandies”, which was somehow even worse than the horrible pun). My friends and I would make fun of them, and I even cultivated a Zia McCabe impression (the key is having a bored and superior look on your face). I was also a twenty-something in a rock band, and I prayed I would never become so irritating and smug. I confess to some jealousy when they eventually made it big, but after a few years I’d pretty much forgotten all about them.
As for Brian Jonestown Massacre, all I knew about them was that their name was also a lame pun on a celebrity’s name. So I can’t recall why I ever wanted to see a documentary about these two bands, but it was on cable, so I checked it out. What I learned about BJM is that they’re even stupider and more juvenile than The Dandy Warhols. Watching these people get into petty squabbles and stroke their competing egos was repellent (was I ever this annoying and self-absorbed?), but I couldn’t turn away. There’s some fascinating dynamics on display here, mostly revolving around Anton: the delusional, childlike, narcissistic frontman of BJM. The major drawback is that the film is narrated by Courtney Taylor, so it definitely puts The Dandy Warhols is a more positive light than they perhaps deserve. It’s tempered somewhat by their repeated assertions that BJM’s music is “genius” (hint: it’s not) but still seems a bit one-sided. Rating: 7
