On the last night of it’s one week run at the Brattle Theater, I was able to check out the new They Might Be Giants documentary “Gigantic : A Tale of Two Johns.” I was as much motivated by an escape into air-conditioned comfort as I was by the film’s limited release, but either way, I’m pretty glad I made the solo trip.

The obligatory (and perhaps overly long) backstory : For about four years, maybe late ’87 to early ’92, I was a rabid TMBG fan. Possibly obsessive. Knew all the lyrics on the first couple records, called the Dial-A-Song service nearly every day for awhile (even bought a telephone recording adapter so I could make compilation tapes of the calls). When they started playing outside of NYC, I caught as many shows as I could, nervously shaking their hands after some, sayin’ thanks. I tracked down bootlegs, bought all the merch, made collections of all the b-sides. I freaked out when Lincoln was released. Flood, too. I was in complete shock when they appeared on the Tonight Show. I was Mr. Horrible. Through college, as I went from early-alternative-boy, to goth-boy, to industrial-boy, back to alternative-boy, to indie-rock-boy, TMBG was always there.

Until 1992, when the love affair ended. I’m not sure exactly why, although it’s probably not a coincidence that ’92 marked their first tour with a backing band, rather than the two-guys-and-a-backing-tape action of their previous shows. To me, that was TMBG at their peak … just the two of them, up on stage, jumping around, unlike any other band I’d ever seen. The accordian, the saxomaphone, the guitar, the Stick, the reel to reel, the songs. For me, up until Apollo 18, the songs were good enough to make up for any perceived ‘lack of stage presence’ that others saw.

The documentary addresses this subject very specifically, explaining that it was primarily outside forces (aka ‘label/management folks/friends’) who persuaded the Johns to find backing musicians. Nothing against the talent of the guys they got to play with them, but to my ears, they just never needed it. If anything, the two-man show was ‘concentrated-Giants’, and the full band just diluted their art. They became like so many bands before and after them… two guitars, bass, keys, drums. Granted, the sax and accordian stayed around, but it was never the same as those early, sweaty college shows.

Apparantly there were even fans who ‘boycotted’ the band from that point on, going as insanely far as standing outside shows with ‘no band!’ petitions. Yeesh. My reaction wasn’t quite that strong, I just had too many other bands to discover, and not enough time to spend with one that I used to love so much more. (It also didn’t help that my obsession with TMBG was shared with someone very close to me, and in ’92 their sudden absence in my life made the early stuff TMBG stuff kinda hard to take. To this day, ‘She’s An Angel’ is still a bittersweet listen.)

In 1995, I did something I never thought I’d do. I actually walked out of a TMBG concert. I hadn’t heard ’em in years, hadn’t seen the full band thing since that one time in ’92, but they were playing in my freakin’ hometown, at the big local theater on Main Street. Red carpet, red seats, red stage curtain, the whole deal. I mean, how could I not go? So a friend and I bought our tickets, sat down… and found ourselves apathetic. The memory of the old shows were just too strong… the energy, intensity, originality. I felt too uninvolved, sitting several rows back, the crowd so well-behaved, the band so distant and above us all on the massive stage. It happens. About halfway through the show, Mike and I just looked at each other with “I’m bored” written all over our faces. And so we left.

Flash forward to 2003. The Johns are still around, doing their thing, plugging away… I just haven’t really been paying attention. Hell, I didn’t even know they’d written the Daily Show’s theme song, something I hear every single weekday (so technically, yes, I still listen to ’em, 20 seconds at a time). I nearly didn’t go check out Gigantic, but the other day I was able to put myself back in the brain of the college-me. I can picture the former-me shaking the now-me, saying “but it’s a They Might Be Giants movie! You used to LOVE them. It’s playing at one of your favorite theaters. You owe it to me to go.” And y’know, he was right. The band was a huge part of my life for awhile, and the songs still sit there somewhere in the back of my mind, waiting to get dusted off occasionally, nostalgically playing along with nothing but the best of memories. An evening of cinematic mental time-travel was in order.

So how was the thing? Well, I tried to look at it from both a former-fan’s perspective and a “who the hell are these two guys?” perspective. Obviously you’re going to get a hell of a lot more out of it if you have some appreciation for what the Johns have created together. It starts off slowly, however, with a bit of history on Honest Abe, leading to TMBG’s hometown of Lincoln, Mass, then on to a few fairly obvious and uncomfortably delivered interview bits. Straight away we get some full-band live footage which, of course, didn’t connect with me very well. After the first 15 minutes, I was enjoying the A/C more than the movie, but as soon as they dove into the early years, the dial-a-songs, the Bernstein videos, the Carson appearance, I was hooked. Admittedly, even a couple of the live songs grabbed me, especially ‘She’s An Angel’. I’m not sure it’s even possible to make that song sound bad.

In addition to their manager, tour managers, critics, and label people, several note-worthy celebs are interviewed throughout about the Johns, including Syd Straw, Frank Black, Ira Glass, Josh Kornbluth, Janeane Garofalo, Dave Eggers, and others. Visits to the Daily Show, Tonight Show, and Conan O’Brien are included as well, along with entirely random spoken-word performances by Harry Shearer, Michael McKean, and Andy Richter. Then again, it wouldn’t be a TMBG documentary without a little dash of randomness.

As I said, I’m really glad I went… it was like hanging with an old friend for a little while. I was reminded of so many great songs, so many fun shows, and of just how much I used to worship the two Johns. If you ever loved a They Might Be Giants song, track down Gigantic if it’s playing anywhere near you, or check out the bound-to-happen DVD.

Jeez, this post has gone on far too long, and taken up waaaay to much of my breaktime today. Time to go do the dumb things I gotta do. Oh, and touch the puppethead.