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Rating:
The first impression that an inexperienced and imprudent listener usually has upon first hearing a The Flaming Lips album is one of total bewilderment and distrust.
"My God, what a terrible voice this guy has. How can he sing?"
I got over that voice quite a few years ago, making peace with it, actually turning it into a passion.
Such a passion that I was almost disappointed when that voice appeared (almost) normal and (almost) in tune in one of the first tracks I heard from this new album.
The track ("We don't know how and why") didn’t even seem that great to me, isolated, spying on it from the window.
Then, yesterday, for the first time, I entered through the door and explored all the rooms, passing through the entire corridor inside the King’s mouth (I wonder what Wayne Coyne is trying to tell with this absurd story? Who knows!!).
So, let’s start with the positives: The Flaming Lips are still alive, despite the patch and too much eyeliner on their leader, the green hair of some newcomers, etc., etc.
And they are still sweetly mad, or rather, "sweetly high" (musically speaking), just like in my beloved "The Soft Bulletin."
The nostalgic psychedelic melancholy is exactly that.
The sound exploration (I don’t know if it’s still thanks to Dave Fridmann) is truly remarkable (though sometimes it borders on excess, as we’ll see later).
And then there’s Wayne Coyne, who dares to modulate his "powerful" voice, particularly in a track like "The Sparrow", in the very way I adore, chasing after notes and melodies (quite sophisticated) as if in the grip of a lump in his throat, deeply enhancing the emotional timbre of some of the album’s standout pieces.
As I said, sound exploration.
There is everything, a cry (right at the album’s opening), background voices, daring effects and modulations (in post-production) of voices and more, timpani, and so much more.
And there’s the Bolero (the rhythm), and Thus Spoke Zarathustra...
There’s the narrating voice of Mick Jones (from the Clash) who occasionally tells the story of the King and his head.
There are powerful and overproduced instrumentals, and there are at least a couple of songs with an adorably natural psychedelic pop feel (particularly the closing one, "How can a head").
And here we come to the negatives (I don’t want to talk about the album cover..), which lower the rating.
Perhaps with all these elements, the "seasoning" might come off a bit excessive (certainly on the first listen, by the third listen today I already find it almost adequate..)?
Maybe that’s the only real problem with this album, along with some somewhat fragmented tracks with surely splendid sections taken separately but somewhat disconnected together (the aforementioned "The Sparrow").
And then there’s Wayne Coyne's voice, always off-pitch (this is clearly a problem for the detractors, certainly not for me).
To finish, a few references.
Let’s put it this way: a mix between the mood of ELO's Eldorado, Jacco Gardner's works, and the inevitable Wizard of Oz and Pink Floyd.
And also, in my opinion, a bit of certain woodland ballads like those Yes knew how to create, in certain pieces (e.g. "Giant Baby," "Mouth of the King").
And a bit of Tom Waits ("Feedaloodum Beedle Dot").
And I don’t find it a little (in fact, maybe it’s too much..).
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