S Poddar
Two decades on from its initial release, Ondi Timoner’s seminal documentary *Dig! * has been re-released with extra footage and a new perspective on the legacy of two of the most fascinating psych rock bands of the 90s: the Dandy Warhols and the Brian Jonestown Massacre. The movie, now expanded by 40 minutes of additional footage and a haunting coda, examines the concurrent paths of these two bands, their ultimate triumphs, their disastrous falls, and all that transpired in between. The added footage provides insight into where the bands are today, including the bittersweet revelation that one member of each band has now retired from music to sell real estate. This sudden update starkly contrasts with the previously vibrant, frenetic lives of these musicians, compelling a consideration of the passage of time.
It recalls the opening scene of Stardust Memories, in which two trains packed with winners and losers crash at a desolate, abandoned place. The documentary, Dig! XX, is a sprawling, complex examination of rock and roll’s glamorous highs and soul-destroying lows. It chronicles the tense, yet compelling, competition between the Dandy Warhols, a more commercially viable band, and the Brian Jonestown Massacre, a band whose fixation on staying true to art had a tendency to steer them in the direction of self-destructive tendencies. The film, first filmed over the course of multiple years, is narrated extensively by two protagonists: Courtney Taylor-Taylor, leader of the Dandy Warhols, and tambourine man for the Brian Jonestown Massacre, Joel Gion.
Their different viewpoints give audiences an unvarnished glimpse of the disorganized underworld of the rock culture of the 90s, with egos, aspirations, disillusionments, and surrealism. Right from the start, *Dig! * appears to imply that the Dandy Warhols were destined for commercial success. But even this success was haunted by a lingering sense of selling out—a tension between the desire for fame and the yearning to stay pure to one’s art. In contrast, the Brian Jonestown Massacre, never famous in the same way, always seemed destined to be an underground classic. Their route was defined by art purity, but also by disorder and chaos.
Even with the BJM’s staggering musical ability, their own internal strife and addiction problems, combined with the charismatic but frequently mercurial leadership of Anton Newcombe, drove the band towards disaster. It was a lovely, heartbreaking shambles—one that was, in a way, a greater tribute to the ethos of rock ‘n’ roll than the Warhols’ glossy success. The tension between the two bands is palpable throughout the documentary, and it captures the essence of rivalry and friendship that characterized their interactions. The Dandy Warhols, who were usually considered more commercially astute, had success with albums such as Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia and the catchy single “Bohemian Like You.” But their success was never quite completely without emotional cost.
Courtney Taylor-Taylor’s account captures the ambivalence that so frequently goes hand in hand with success in the music world. He is the frontman of a band that achieved the commercial success they desired, but one that was achieved at the cost of compromises—compromises that, for Taylor-Taylor, tended to feel like they were at the expense of artistic integrity. Meanwhile, the Brian Jonestown Massacre never attained such heights of mainstream popularity, but their tale, as told by Joel Gion, was infused with a sense of realness that endeared them to the masses. Gion, a character who exudes the group’s charm and absurdity, recounts with humor and pathos the manner in which Newcombe’s revolutionary approach to music was prone to causing stormy band dynamics.
Despite all the dysfunction, the BJM’s music had a profound depth to it. It was always apparent that the band had what it took to make it big, but their own internal conflicts and Newcombe’s mercurial personality too often derailed their opportunities. The narrative of the film alternates back and forth between the two bands, comparing and contrasting them. A compelling dichotomy exists at the center of the documentary: the Dandy Warhols’ fight against success and the Brian Jonestown Massacre’s constant struggle with failure. It’s a tale of ambition, disillusionment, egos, and the self-destructive tendencies of rock star culture. *Dig!
- reveals that success and failure are not always what they appear to be. While the Dandy Warhols had chart-topping singles and fame, their efforts to keep their artistic integrity in the midst of mainstream success are exposed. Meanwhile, the Brian Jonestown Massacre’s commercial failure, which at first glance appears to be a failure, can also be interpreted as a form of artistic integrity that was admired by many fans. Throughout the course of the documentary, Timoner reveals the usually uncomfortable truth of the rock ‘n’ roll existence.
The drugs, the egos, the clashes of personalities—it all get to these bands, leaving them broken and emotionally battered. The raw footage records flashes of genius and despair, offering a glimpse of the explosive temperament of the music business. And as the years pass by, it is evident that the world of psych rock—so promising and rebellious—cannot shield its stars from the inexorable passage of time. The most affecting scenes in *Dig! * XX appear in the final coda, which provides a glimpse of how life has been for members of both bands two decades on from the original release. The grey-haired former rockers, some of whom have moved on to more “normal” existences, are a poignant reminder of the passing of time.
A few members, once rock gods, are now selling real estate rather than albums. It’s a disconcerting photo, but one that says something about the transience of stardom and the eventual return to reality of once-elevated ambitions. Seeing these ex-stars come to grips with the everyday reality of life is tragic and, in a curious way, reassuring.
It’s the natural progression of life—the young stars shoot up and burn out, and eventually time drives them off the stage and into the everyday. Ultimately, Dig!undefined XX is not so much a film about two rock bands.undefinedIt’s a reflection on the dynamics of success and failure, the ephemeral nature of fame, and the search to maintain something significant in the midst of commercial stress. It’s a tale of two bands, two bands with visions, battles, and their own individual brand of redemption—be it through success, failure, or just making it through the mayhem of rock ‘n’ roll.
