After several years of disappointment,
I was feeling doubtful about the new
Flaming Lips album in 2017, the strangely
titled Oczy Mlody. But there are certain
artists or bands to which I feel an almost
insane level of loyalty. The Flaming Lips is
one of those. It turned out, I was pleasantly
surprised. If Embryonic and The Terror were
nearly unlistenable, uncomfortable music
experiences, this new one was a 180 degree
turn in the other direction–toward melody,
toward fidelity, toward interesting art pop
arrangements. Not the best Lips album ever,
but certainly a return to form. And while
holding on to the crazy elements that have
been the most salient feature of any album
by The Flaming Lips, the odd synth noises,
the weird drum sounds, the orchestrated
interludes, the tempo fluctuations, the
philosophical, absurdist lyrics, surpising
production choices, this record is quite
lovely, tuneful, dare I say, mellow, easy to
listen to, almost, dare I say, meditative.
Listening to this record the first time, and
now again almost a decade later, I’m happy
as a clam. This music is good medicine
and it’s a real treat to hear special appearances
by Reggie Watts and Miley Cyrus.
Could they do it again? Yes, they could.
Twice. In 2019, with the psychedelic concept
album King’s Mouth (which for some reason
I bought on CD and won’t be listening to today,
even though I am tempted to grab it), and
the 2020 pandemic era American Head.
Almost, at least in tone or mood, the same
description above could be used to
characterize American Head. This one’s less
electronic than Oczy Mlody, it rocks a
little bit harder, features a lot of
acoustic guitar, and real acoustic drums.
It’s mostly a sad record, melancholy, serious,
and dark, wrestling with mortality, calling
your mom after taking LSD, or worse,
calling your mom after you’ve been
murdered by robbers, but there’s
a little bit of whimsy here and there,
“Dinosaurs on the Mountain,” or “At the
Movies on Qualudes,” and a couple of sweet songs,
“You and Me Sellin’ Weed,” and the album’s
concluding “My Religion Is You.” Again, even
though it’s a distinct album in the discography,
it’s a resounding return to the kinds of things
that made me love The Flaming Lips in the
first place. I am hopeful about the band’s future,
even though they’ve been relatively quiet
in the studio, and even though, sadly, Steven
Drozd has made a split with the band. I’m
not sure what it will mean musically. These
two have been at the center of the band
since Drozd joined as the drummer in 1991.
It looks like Wayne Coyne is the only original
member of the band left. We’ll see what he does.
Note on the vinyl editions:
- Oczy Mlody, Warner Brothers Records, 2017, double record, disc one on purple vinyl, disc two on orange vinyl.
- American Head, Warner Brothers Records, 2020, double album on black vinyl.
In case you don’t already know: I’m listening to almost everything in my vinyl collection, A to Z, and writing at least one, sometimes two or three long skinny poem-like-things in response for each artist, and on a few occasions, writing a long skinny poem-like-thing in response to more than one artist. As a poet and a student of poetry, I understand that these things look like poems, but they don’t really sound much like poetry, hence, I call them “poem-like-things.” I’ll admit that they’re just long, skinny essays that veer every now and then into the poetic or lyric.
michael jarmer 