The Flaming Lips
Embryonic - Warner
FILTER Grade: 88%

Now on their 11th full-length (not counting live albums, soundtracks and EP’s), The Flaming Lips have pretty much established themselves as everybody’s favorite alternative band. And while that last qualifier is usually a broad tag, the Lips are one of the few bands to which it truly applies. They don’t really sound like anyone—and no one sounds like them. But despite all of the sonic groundbreaking they’ve become famous for, they are as susceptible as anyone to putting out the occasional clunker. Their last album, At War with the Mystics, didn’t really add anything to their oeuvre. Telepathic Surgery is generally considered largely forgettable and Hit to Death in the Future Head and Clouds Taste Metallic caught them preparing for or adjusting to lineup changes. That leaves seven other strong winners that could be called “game changers” in the grand scheme of popular music, but can’t be since no one else has had either the ability or imagination to follow suit—which is fine, as long as the Lips keep pushing. But part of their broad appeal is because their last few albums have been as inoffensive as they are experimental. Gone are the days of Wasting Pigs is Still Radical. And when was the last time they used a line like “Jesus Shooting Heroin” (Hear It Is) or “We just slept and fucked and got high” from Hit to Death in the Future Head? Well, if names count for anything, the fist signs of hope on the new album, Embryonic, are the song titles: “The Sparrow Looks Up at the Machine,” “Gemini Syringes,” “Convinced of the Hex,” “Aquarius Sabotage,” and “Virgo Self Esteem Broadcast” show that if nothing else, the band hasn’t lost its knack for the psychedelic non-sequitor.

Surprise and relief are the words that best describe an initial reaction to Embryonic. Relief that it’s not a corny attempt at wacky pop primped up to be interesting by a bunch of kooky sound effects (see “She Don’t Use Jelly,” “This Here Giraffe,” “Bad Days,” “The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song”…) and surprise that it’s almost the exact opposite. This collection of 18 songs clocking in at over an hour is weirdly good and sounds as if they didn’t even consider the concept of a single. The vocals have come way down and are often minimalistic chants or mantras like, “We can be like they are, we can be free,” as on “Sagittarius Silver Announcement,” giving extensive room to the bass, which throughout is the most consistent instrument providing a cohesive framework for each song with a pulsating drone. It’s hard to tell who is exerting the most influence in this new sound and direction. Is it Coyne or multi-instrumentalist Steven Drozd? Perhaps this is the Michael Ivins [bassist] album that certain fans have long imagined? Largely gone are the faux string swells used to imply grandiose passion and to endorse singer Wayne Coyne’s increasingly heavy-handed philosophizing, which seemed to be forcing the issue after a while. This album is dramatically stripped back to guitar, bass, drums and vocals. Yes, they are all affected with distortion and delays, but stepping away from excessive studio trickery serves the band well, pulling out the crutch of technology and replacing it with a grittier energy one would expect from a band just starting, as opposed to one in their third decade.

The strongest songs are “See the Leaves,” a psychotic four-and-a-half minute Krautrock jam that would fit easily on Can’s Tago Mago or Monster Movie, and “Powerless,” which recalls a more medicated Edwin Collins or Joy Division without the moping vocals. It’s hard to imagine any of this on the radio, but perhaps the band recognizes that selling records via traditional outlets like radio has become an anachronism. In the past, they referred to “feeding the machine” in order to keep making records. With Embryonic, it sounds like they’ve taken control of the Borg. With the state of the industry, they might not have much to lose. I can’t imagine there’s an A&R guy with the longevity, clout or job security to tell these guys what they can and can’t do. And they seem to be taking full advantage. Let’s all thank the goddamn Flaming Lips for that.