June 22, 1999. It was eight years ago today that The Flaming Lips released their most painfully honest, yet full-on pop record yet. An album that went on to become my favorite of all time.
After the perverted mindfuck that was "Zaireeka", perhaps an album this blatantly commercial `n clean was the most radical move the band could make. If you were the Flaming Lips circa 1998, what the hell would you do? The entire equilibrium was in a state of collapse: guitar wizard Ronald Jones had left the band two years prior to pursue a life of seclusion (filled with noisy growing grass), Michael Ivins nearly died in a freak car accident, multi-instrumentalist Steven Drozd almost lost his arm due to a spiderbite/heroin needle infection (you decide!). And Wayne? His father passed away as our hero, Wayne, quickly approached the gray-tinged beard that old age brings. Such madness, indeed, and here we have the result.
Precisely how does one describe music of this transcendental caliber? As Wayne says in the band's documentary, "The Fearless Freaks", "Some fans come up to me and say this is our most depressing, sobering album yet, and I totally agree. And some people say it's the most uplifting, beautiful thing we've done, and I agree with that, too." (Paraphrased...) No sir, it's not the "Pet Sounds" of the 90's. Coyne and Drozd also fondly described the group as "Frank Sinatra meets Led Zeppelin", but no, it's not quite that, either.
Orchestral, creative meditations on mortality and perseverance, speaking directly to the subconscious. Because Wayne's been there. He knows what it smells like. The type of music that would make the world a better place had it appeared in random letterboxes that fateful day in 1999. Perhaps the Columbine Massacre wouldn't have occured, had this album appeared a few months earlier. Perhaps Genghus Kahn would become a fan had this album appeared a few centuries earlier.
If I attempted to communicate every joyful "little moment" that means something to me, this review would be years long. Like the watch beep in "What Is The Light?" (is it intentional???) Or the off-setting drum pattern in "The Spiderbite Song", an element that I remember impressing me during my first listen of my first Lips album way back when.
Instead, we can talk about the euphoric rush of adrenaline that the first smash of "Race for the Prize" brings, one of the most wonderful concert openers....well, ever. Or the raw conviction in Wayne's cracking voice when he runs through "A Spoonful Weighs A Ton", a vague story about the "they". God knows who he's referring to - "they rescued everyone", "they lifted up the sun", "the process had begun", "a million came from one". Yet, the basic premise is understood - he's singing about a struggle! Those basic, primal human emotions, the joy of perserverance! Hey, I know that! (Cue awesome drum smashes during instrumental chorus).
"I stood up and I said yeah!"("But, in reality, there was no reaction...")
Really, every track captures a different aspect of the human experience. And every song is utterly perfect, it's true. "The Spiderbite Song, a playful ode to survival and friendship, explicitly mentioning those aforementioned ridiculous situations that seem to only befall a band this ridiculous. The psychedelic and brilliant "Suddenly Everything Has Changed", which deals with the life-changing situations that seem to come at the most mundane of moments, no doubt inspired by that armed robbery at Long John Silver's. (In the words of Lloyd Christmas, "One minute yer chewing on a burger, next minute you're dead meat.") He sings, "Driving home, the sky accelerates and the clouds all form geometric shapes..." and I dare you not to shiver like a woman. Wait, women shiver?
"What is the Light?" is tuneful and raw, giant and miniscule, questioning the scientific origin of that feeling called love. You know, that place that you're drawn to. Then there's "Waitin` for a Superman", a heart-breaking piano ballad longing for a Superman-like messiah figure to save the day, before concluding that "it's just too heavy for Superman to lift," accented by some bells and two special trumpet notes.
"Is it overwhelming to use a crane to crush a fly?"
"The Gash" is another mini-masterpiece on an album full of them, as described in My Top Ten Flaming Lips Songs Evah. Bizarre harmonies, likened to a church chorus on crack, singing, or perhaps preaching on the subject of persistence despite that "gash in your leg". The song glides effortlessly into "Feeling Yourself Disintegrate", perhaps the most nakedly honest and beautiful song the band's done, stripping away all the giraffe or bleeding vagina metaphors to reveal a rather vulnerable core. Like the culmination of this band's existence comes to the forefront when Wayne finally declares that "Life without death is just impossible." Words cannot describe. It's just too valuable.
That tuna sandwich might appear a bit mundane in comparison. Don't worry. When the final blissful notes of "Sleeping on the Roof" fade out, you'll know it's real. Klaatu barada nikto.
Do u utube?
(Note: Buy this album today. But your copy won't be as lovely as my worn-down booklet with Wayne Coyne's loving signature with the terrible handwriting and black sharpie. Also, purchase the 5.1 Surround Sound edition as well. And seek out "The Soft Bulletin Companions" on the interwebs. It makes one wonder how such incredible material could possibly be born from one album. The B-sides are every bit as incredible, including "Satellite of You", "The Captain" and "1,000 Foot Hands", ranking as the Lips' most extraordinary songs you haven't heard.)
(Note number two: This'll be my last blog entry for this site for a month or two. Daddy's going away to a land free of internet. Be well. Don't eat the yellow snow.)
They had it all going right originally mates, but then a variety of complex happenings did indeed take place. Suffice to say, that I am no doubt the most beautiful human being to ever grace the face of the planet, but this article is not about me and my triumphant return to France. No, the discussion at hand relates to the downfall of the Flaming Lips. Now, from the onset, they were doing some crazy silly stuff, no question. Having heyday Butthole Surfers as your role model is bound to make for an interesting live show at the very least. They closed out the nineteen-eighties with some of their most powerfully original work, and started the nineties off with a massive bang by signing to a record label that was indeed major.
Thinking back about their first taste of commercial success in the nineties reminds me of how fun and creatively driven these self-made Art Rockers ultimately were, and no need to name albums, because we all know what I am talking about here, friends. A catchy tune about Jelly and a Metallic record that followed, nothing could go awry. Bizarre experimental projects with difficult to pronounce names, and a Bulletin they affectionately referred to as Soft, and this was the icing on the cake, buster! What to do next? Well, so at this point they expanded their sound and further explored the more lighthearted aspects of Bulletin with a record dedicated to a Japanese drummer and expert screamer named Yoshimi. This was not a bad idea, the record was quite good, and even if it included a corny reflective Folk Rock ballad about Realizing things, still this was manageable.
And then came the Yoshimi tour in 2002; what happened here exactly? For one, they violently devoured a diva named Beck in the goofy Alternative Rock press, and number two, they ignored Steven’s profound talent as a drummer in favor of a dope named Kliph, some vague human monster, if you will. In the ensuing years the online community of which many a long time Lips fan was involved in, was essentially destroyed and quite violently so by a couple of nightmarish hired goons, and no doubt Kliph among them along with some poor dope called The Animal Wrangler. But who are these people, and what exactly do they have to do with the respective Flaming Lips legacy? The answer is as follows: Absolutely nothing at all.
But all of this is quite telling my little sissy friends, as it is part of a greater problem; and that is as such: the violent downfall and death of a vibrant and beautiful band. It happens all the time, but when it happens to YOUR band it’s all the more painful, is it not, Mr. Redmond Barry? And so, to top it all off this once wondrous group puts that final nail in their grimy coffin with an incomprehensibly dull album that vaguely deals with Mystics, but it is all bells and whistles at this point, and not just in their now cliché traveling circus of a live show, because it would appear that the records are now equally as devoid of meaning. So why am I still here my precious little babies, are funerals somehow entertaining?
The Flaming Lips are my favorite band ever and these are their top ten songs ever. Is that okay with you, pumpkin?
The Top Ten (in sort-of order):
1. "You Have To Be Joking (Autopsy of the Devil's Brain)" Ever since I first heard it on the audio section of the band's website some time in 2003, I've been awed by this achingly-beautiful acoustic track, an uncharacteristically quiet song off of 1992's "Hit To Death in the Future Head". Instrumentally, it's mostly just an acoustic guitar, string samples and some bongos, and yet I wouldn't hesitate to call it Wayne Coyne's greatest accomplishment as a songwriter. It has a haunting quality of a Stones or Neil Young ballad, with an eerie echo effect on the vocals and a bizarre strings sample at about the two-thirds mark. Lyrically, it seems to capture a reaction to something so horrific and unbelievable, Wayne's in denial. "You have to be joking...they wouldn't do such unspeakable things." The epiphany comes during the bridge, when he declares, "Seems to me that God and the devil are both the same." Please seek out this song.
I was reminded of my love for this song while in the front row, when the band unexpectedly performed it as the second encore at a show in New York, last September. Wayne prefaced it by saying that they hadn't performed it for at least ten years, and then proceeded to play an amazing version of the song, with only a keyboard backing him. I only regret not mentioning my gratitude when I met him afterwards. Here's a video of the event:
2. "The Gash" I've often proclaimed The Lips' "The Soft Bulletin" to be my favorite album ever and it most certainly would not be the same without this freakishly epic ode to perserverance. Essentially, it's a combination of what sounds like a church choir on crack, a climatic orchestra and some booming, echo-drenched drums that makes this song beyond description. Wayne takes a accusatory lyrical approach, demanding to know why this gash on your leg has caused you to "lose all the will to battle on."
Will the fight for our sanity be the fight of our lives? Now that we've lost all the reasons that we thought that we had
Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
(Even the last second of this song is beyond brilliant, as these Oklahoma weirdos end it with a amazingly effective piano ting.)
A performance of the song from Webster Hall, 3/31/06:
3. "Slow Nerve Action" Oh, and speaking of booming drums, I think these are my favorite drums in any song, ever. It begins with an indescribably "bwwwwoing!", but I could write a four-page thesis paper just attempting to describe the significance that that first second has for me. I truly believe that drummer/multi-instrumental genius/God Steven Drozd should be declared Pope, win a Nobel Prize and an Academy Award solely for his performance in this song. The drums burst out of the speakers with enough intensity, distortion and, well...sound to kill a moose. Jesus Christ, those drums....But the actual song itself! Incredible Lips' albums like "Transmissions from the Satellite Heart" (from which this song is pulled) seem to be all about contrast to me; the way the sweet innocent xylophone line contrasts with the insane noise-guitar riff, or the way the catchy vocal melodies fits against those aforementioned drums. Oh, and listen to that feedback-guitar solo (that word doesn't begin to describe it) at 2:57. Ronald Jones, I salute you! Where the fuck have you gone? The lyrics are typically confusing:
She had a cool invisible dog that she called Paul We'd always sit around the house watching her feed the dog.
The song ends the same way it started: a full-on static assault of satanic drumming. A lo-fi mini-masterpiece.
Performance from 10/23/1999:
4. "Satellite of You" There are songs, and then there are songs. "Satellite of You" (no, not the Lou Reed tune) is a real song, the type of song that you feel and love and want to have sexual intercourse with. Due to the divine nature of the sessions for "The Soft Bulletin", even the surplus material (found on "The Soft Bulletin Companions") is godspoken and better than your favorite band's best work. This incredible outtake from said album has been described by the band as a "cross between Frank Sinatra and Led Zeppelin", though it sounds like the type of music I'd imagine God himself would listen to. Drenched in gorgeous strings, booming drums (sensing a pattern here), gorgeous harmonies and just the right amount of harmonica, this is the type of song that makes me think I can jump into oncoming traffic and land in an ice cream sundae.
`cause your the earth And I'm just the moon In orbit so faithfully... A satellite true
The Sinatra/Zeppelin (hey, more of that contrast theme!) is heard most clearly during the last minute or so, as the booming drums reach some sort of epic, cosmic agreement with the floating harmonies, letting the song fade out gracefully.
5. "March of the Rotten Vegetables" Some say that the band's ambitious (an understatement, no?) 1997 album "Zaireeka" is one of the most brilliantly unique recordings ever; others describe it as pointlessly pretentious and impractical (*cough*PITCHFORK REVIEW*cough*). I've always been firmly in the former camp, as listening to this record on four CD players the way it's meant to be heard is truly one of the most unique and engaging musical experiences I've ever had. If "Slow Nerve Action" is my favorite drum intro, then I suppose this is my favorite drum solo. (I might as well just marry Steven Drozd at this point.) Allow me to give you Wayne's description of the song, found in the liner notes:
"I envisioned this as music for a cartoon about a group of determined vegetables who feel like the place where they're growing is.. no good. So they uproot and head for better soil.. encountering hardship and heroism along the way.. as they parade through Meatville they are BOOed, then they are attacked by bats, but eventually, before they rot, they must find better ground.. CD No.1 plays the main theme. CD No.3 takes over during the "here come the bats" part and all the CD's join in as the bats "attack." You may hear this as a freakish drum solo."
Yeah, no shit, pa! After the creepily foreboding piano + synth melody subsides, the obnoxious drums fully hijack the track, with only a cute little piano melody for accompaniment. I'd imagine Mssr. Drozd was fuckin` gasping for air after a solo of such epic proportions. Oh, and it descends into pure white noise, at one point. You know, because those are the bats. Wayne said so. That makes sense, right? God, I love this band.
6. "Enthusiasm for Life Defeats Internal, Existential Fear" It's a crime that so many casual Lips fans have been robbed of the oppurtunity to hear this beautiful ode to life's innocence. It's a crime that this song was left off of the band's most recent album, "At War with the Mystics", though the band's claim that it just don't fit is reasonable enough. It's a crime that Phil Spector killed that prostitute that one time in 2003. But enough about that.
Because, even if the documentary The Fearless Freaks (add it to your Netflix pronto if you haven't viewed it) consisting of nothing but Michael Ivins making burping noises for 90 minutes straight, it'd still be worth it to hear this song during the credits. (And yes, every time I hear the song, I think of those credits. Those wonderful credits, since, for about a year, they were my only soource of hearing this song.) The song has a raw, laid-back, acoustic acid-country feel to it, reminiscent of the soundtrack to "Okie Noodling". Somehow, this musical backdrop manages to invoke pure, unadulterated nostalgia and reflection. Slow, now honey, keep it slow. The tune manages to make beautiful usage of a banjo solo, as well, and eventually fades out to the tune of an oncoming train. But not a menacing train; a calm, reflective train, if ya catch my drift. I don't care if you have to tackle a helpless, old woman on the way, please find a way to acquire this song.
Last night I had a horrible dream But the dogs barking in the morning came and chased it all away
7. "When You Smile/Psychiatric Explorations of the Fetus with Needles" Fun fact: This is the only time I can recall seeing "fetus" and "smile" appear together in the same song title. Anyway, this 12-minute live medley appears on "The Fearless Freaks" soundtrack. Like, there was this, like, guy named Ronald Jones and he made incredible noises with a guitar that no one else could and then he went insane and left the band. The end.
This live recording isn't of great sound quality, yet the intensity oughta be illegal. It begins with a noisy rendition of "Clouds Taste Metallic"'s gorgeous ditty "When You Smile". Just listen to the sounds coming out of that amplifier at the 3:14 mark! This segways into a lengthy introduction to "Psychiatric Explorations of the Fetus" (yeah, that's actually the title). The bass grooves on and on as the guitar moans and groans all over the top. It builds up and finally explodes into orgasmic bliss at about 7 and a half minutes with enough noise-driven madness to wake Terri Schiavo.
The chromosomes seem not to want the feeeeeeeeeeeeeettusssssss!!!!!!!!!
8. "Jesus Shootin` Heroin" The amateurish chaos of the Lips` first three records certainly needed some representation over hurr, and I feel that this song, more than any other, demonstrates Wayne's early potential and unique vision as a songwriter. It begins with three moody, reverb-drenched minor chords, as Wayne muses on the mystery of religion.
I've never really understood religions Expect it seems a good reason to kill Everybody's got their own conceptions And you know, they always will.
The chorus pulls us headfirst into a slow-burning, noisy battle cry of "Aaaahhhhhh-Aaaaaaaaaaaah", like a bunch of heroin-addicts invading a church. The quietly creepy "aahhhhhh" refrain lends a background to the confusing guitar solo and final verse narration about a tragic police accident in New York City. A song like this may not have the polished sheen of "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots", or the one-of-a-kind fractured noise rock genius of "In A Priest Driven Ambulance", but it most certainly shows that the genius of this unique group was there from the beginning, albeit in a different form.
9. "Bad Days (Aurally Excited Version)" "Bad Days" (originally found on the "Batman Forever" soundtrack) is the type of song that you just can't imagine anyone frowning during. Because you have to sleep late when you can. It's true. All your bad days will end.
The band's prevalent optimism shines through here. Oh, and remember that old theme of contrast? Who the fuck else sings of blowing a boss's head off over a musical backdrop of yippy xylophones and upbeat "oooohh--ooooh" harmonies? Of course, it's a Drozd/Jones party, and the fuzzy guitars and insanely-loud drums are invited as well. But not an exercise in wankery; it's an exercise in pure sugar-drenched melody and happiness and upbeat whistling. Even up to that obnoxiously catchy coda and xylophone solo (!), this song is pretty much perfect, and that's that.
Don't miss out on the disgustingly happy video:
10. "Do You Realize??" Ahahahahahahahahahaha! You thought I was gonna neglect this double question-marked gem in favor of my obscure, indie elitism. Disclaimer: I'm not too cool for "Do You Realize??" No one is. It doesn't fucking matter if you first heard it in a car commercial, a radio in Starbucks or from Wayne Coyne himself at a concert. This song, in all of its mellotron-soaked, key-change glory, is better than all of us. Because everyone you know someday will die.
And, no, I'm not even gonna bother trying to describe the song. You've heard it before, and you'll hear it again. But, in the meantime, why not watch the video for the thousandth time? After all, it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning `round.
Honorable mention: Track 11 on "Hit To Death in the Future Head" Because we're red-blooded Amrrrrrricans and we like 29 minutes and 16 seconds of speaker-jumping sonic chaos after a delicious, 1992 noise-pop album!
