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Rating: From the diary of a Flaming Lips fan who couldn't attend their concert in Oklahoma City due to the lack of a flight to America.
10/18/07
Today is a rainy day, the kind of fast, dry, relentless rain.
The kind that rushes to splatter on the asphalt, almost in the throes of cosmic scale suicidal urges.
And here I am again, dealing with yet another soliloquy about the Flaming Lips.
And I think I'd sometimes really like to be like them, go to the office dressed as a skeleton, descend from a spaceship and glide playing on the ground, while a sea of giant colorful balloons and streamers chorus me.
I've seen them live twice, and I'm disappointed once again in front of their "show."
The astrovane has landed, the "alien" captain Coyne walks on the audience inside his inflatable sphere
Race for the Prize, a hypersonic explosion of streamers in the sky, the zoo animals come out of their dens trying to figure out what's happening
Do You Realize, the night sky "obscured" by a very dense rain of confetti
Vein of Stars, multicolored lights and Stravinsky's Firebird at the end
From Wayne Coyne's eagerness to capture in oversized images and sounds all his oversized, lucid inner confusion in a philosophical Marvel sauce.
He, as read in the DVD booklet, would like to be the Aurora Borealis.
I, in my small way, would be content today to be a simple summer sunny day, with my wife and children smiling beside me.
They, amid a fair sea of backing tracks, truly play, and it’s audible through the headphones.
You can hear and see the splendid drumming of Kliph Scurlock, not overshadowed by the great multi-instrumental skill of Steven Drozd.
Wayne Coyne, on the other hand, plays the guitar, but best of all his streamer shooter and his usual hoarseness.
Michael Ivins plays "the chair" and sometimes the bass.
Interviews with bizarre Trainspotting-like characters (but also a lot of normal people)
Wayne Coyne assembling the stage
Wayne Coyne socializing with a seal
The beautiful direction of Bradley Beesley, the fifth (or fourth, or sixth) Lips
A Spoonful Weighs a Ton, the "historic" Love Yer Brain, concert over
Steven Drozd ends the concert while the spaceship has already fired up the engines to return to the planet Papalla, with one of his heartbreaking instrumentals sprinkled with the last drops of heroin still unable to find the exit door from his veins.
In short, it was a really great concert, even if, this time, I wasn't there.
Goodbye aliens, come back to visit us soon.
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