Review: The Flaming Lips - Embryonic
Originally published for FasterLouder as this week's album of the week
For the past decade, Wayne Coyne and his band of merry men have spread their own brand of grandiose love upon the world. Their last three records – the legendary pair of Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots and the somewhat lacklustre At War With the Mystics have defined the band as masters of psychedelic pop.
Paired with what is arguably one of the world’s greatest live shows, The Flaming Lips opened their arms to a legion of fans with an unrivalled optimism and just a sprinkling of insanity.
Okay, now kindly forget all that. Embryonic is not one of those records.
It appears that after the failure of At War… to inspire the same sentiments as its predecessors, the Flaming Lips have cut their losses and gone back to a formula similar to 1995’s Zaireeka. That is: make a double-album soundtrack to their fantasy world. The result is a record that’s so left of centre you wonder if they’ve broken their vows to never take drugs again.
Embryonic sees The Flaming Lips at their most experimental in over a decade. It opens with Convinced of the Hex, a variety of noises – instrumental and otherwise – divided between each speaker, with an Auto-tuned Wayne Coyne repeating the refrain “that’s the difference between us”. The record is lined with 70 minutes of random soundscapes (is that the sound of mobile interference?), militaristic beats and springs of guitars.
Embryonic is an exercise in bombast that doesn’t feel bombastic or overdone – everything from the slowed chord progression on the second half of See The Leaves to the guest musicians on the record has a place. They break out into large jams that lead into recorded voices of astronauts, while animal noises form rhythmic patterns, sounds of gunshots in the distance lend solemn moments and echoing voices transform into all-out rock insanity. Yet it never overstays its welcome or feels tacked on. What would feel artificial from most bands, The Flaming Lips make pure and organic.
Coyne has cited The White Album and Physical Graffiti as influences – two albums that use their length not to further their band’s egos, but to venture into new sonic ground. Embryonic follows the same formula, to a degree. It’s an album that when viewed on a track-by-track basis seems ridiculous – few of the tracks can actually be listened to alone, fewer could be considered ‘singles’. Yet when consumed as a whole, the album makes its own lunatic sense.
When you listen to Embryonic, you don’t hear effort. You hear a group of men wanting to make the best music they can and knowing just how to do it.
17/10/2009 For the past decade, Wayne Coyne and his band of merry men have spread their own brand of grandiose love upon the world. Their last three records – the legendary pair of Soft Bulletin and Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots and the somewhat lacklustre At War With the Mystics have defined the band as masters of psychedelic pop.
Paired with what is arguably one of the world’s greatest live shows, The Flaming Lips opened their arms to a legion of fans with an unrivalled optimism and just a sprinkling of insanity.
Okay, now kindly forget all that. Embryonic is not one of those records.
It appears that after the failure of At War… to inspire the same sentiments as its predecessors, the Flaming Lips have cut their losses and gone back to a formula similar to 1995’s Zaireeka. That is: make a double-album soundtrack to their fantasy world. The result is a record that’s so left of centre you wonder if they’ve broken their vows to never take drugs again.
Embryonic sees The Flaming Lips at their most experimental in over a decade. It opens with Convinced of the Hex, a variety of noises – instrumental and otherwise – divided between each speaker, with an Auto-tuned Wayne Coyne repeating the refrain “that’s the difference between us”. The record is lined with 70 minutes of random soundscapes (is that the sound of mobile interference?), militaristic beats and springs of guitars.
Embryonic is an exercise in bombast that doesn’t feel bombastic or overdone – everything from the slowed chord progression on the second half of See The Leaves to the guest musicians on the record has a place. They break out into large jams that lead into recorded voices of astronauts, while animal noises form rhythmic patterns, sounds of gunshots in the distance lend solemn moments and echoing voices transform into all-out rock insanity. Yet it never overstays its welcome or feels tacked on. What would feel artificial from most bands, The Flaming Lips make pure and organic.
Coyne has cited The White Album and Physical Graffiti as influences – two albums that use their length not to further their band’s egos, but to venture into new sonic ground. Embryonic follows the same formula, to a degree. It’s an album that when viewed on a track-by-track basis seems ridiculous – few of the tracks can actually be listened to alone, fewer could be considered ‘singles’. Yet when consumed as a whole, the album makes its own lunatic sense.
When you listen to Embryonic, you don’t hear effort. You hear a group of men wanting to make the best music they can and knowing just how to do it.
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